Author Topic: The Vandals of Fate (Outside replies allowed)  (Read 1202 times)


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The Vandals of Fate (Outside replies allowed)
« on: June 25, 2020, 03:27:36 AM »
   My name is Kesimir. Kesimir Kovacevic, though I don’t think I’ll ever have to use my surname ever again. It doesn’t “help” me any, here. I only mention it when questioned by a Gendarme, a Garda, or any other lawman that simply needs it for documentation purposes.

   But I already know all this. I think. Not to wax poetic about “what I do and do not know,” or “do I really know myself,” but at the very least it is important -- above all -- to be “truthful” to “yourself.” If “you” believe something, to “know” that “you” “think” “you” “do,” and if you “feel” that “you” “do not” “know,” that “you” “accept” that “you” do, and “accept” that “you” either live with what you have or work for something different. My father had this saying: “do as you will, just don’t complain when someone tries to stop you.”

   I am not well liked. I do not like a lot of people. There are reasons for both of these things, and reasons for those reasons, but I guess by now you knew already about that second thing in relation to that first thing. “You,” the nebulous “being” -- be it man or more -- that some small space of my heart yearns to read these words. To “know” what I “know,” because, by the gods, am I becoming exhausted of “knowing” what “you” “know.” I grow tired of being alone in my own head. Maybe somehow, ideally, I’ll take some place inside of “yours.” Out of want for that “connection,” out of spite that only I would put effort into establishing it, and out of fear that I will never get it. My journal -- my “book of leads” -- is one big list of ways I could either potentially leave the realm of “Dread,” or at least, bring order to some of the chaos within it. This one, will be my ramblings. Those that one might find to come out of my mouth around a campfire, those that might spill from my eyes and fingers whenever it becomes “too loud,” those that “you” do and do not want to hear and maybe should regardless.

We are all bystanders in each other's tale, or roadblocks on our roads, or gates to certain places we wish to be, etcetera. Ignoring these pieces in our lives would do us no good. I’ve even taken up an interest in music. That will become relevant at a later entry. I promise.

   There is a “phrase” my companions and I have spread amongst each other as well as to others. Literally speaking, I “invented” the phrase, though I guess it doesn’t “really” matter. I’ll address my own self-inflicted mote of “control” regarding the claim to the invention of the phrase at a later entry. This “phrase,” or “title,” or whatever you really want to call it, is “Vandal of Fate.”

   I ask everyone I get exceedingly close to  -- or so I would like to see it -- if they believe in Fate. The answer allows for a psychological breakdown of the person whom the question was asked to. Many people I *assume* do not need to be asked the question, because of what can be seen on the surface and how it may affect how I or others “view” that person. “Fate,” as I see it, is a series of calculations. Though I believe -- or “know” as it makes me feel better to describe it that way -- that there are forces in, under, beyond, and around us, that dictate certain “paths” down our lives, I for one -- implying that you would care to know -- believe that these are all just “math.” The “math” of life, I guess. “Pieces to the bigger puzzle,” is probably something more “you” might be accustomed to. Anyone who has played around with a magnificently sized puzzle knows that after some time, pieces can only be so differently shaped. After a while, they will start to fit, and even if the picture does not “add up,” the pieces could just literally be painted over, or have the coloring chipped and shredded away.

   If “you” are still here -- if you don’t know why yet, maybe you’ll find out later, even if you realize that you just want to waste your time -- then know that these “entries” into this new “Journal,” which I will so stupefyingly title “What I believe it means to be the ‘Vandal of Fate.’” will maybe elucidate “you” as well as I, what those “pieces” are in both the grander and more miniscule side of things. Yes, these entries will be as “rambling” as you will probably expect. Some I might just scribble down poorly drawn pictures. I don’t even really know. This might even stop after the first entry.
But this might be all I *can* do anymore. Force some fraction of “my” will onto the most pathetic corner of reality, in a manner that may not be seen by anyone, or create any change that I would want to see be done. If I cannot become the Vandal of “my” Fate, then I could at least waste “your” time. “You,” whatever that may happen to mean.

One last thing: if “you” are capable of reading this, feel free to take out a piece of paper -- or even just this one -- and write as I do. Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll start to experience hallucinations of people arguing with me. Such a luxury might only come from such vivid daydreaming, unfortunately.
« Last Edit: September 15, 2020, 03:45:37 AM by Fright-Face »


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Re: What I believe it means to be the "Vandal of Fate"
« Reply #1 on: June 27, 2020, 06:46:14 PM »
   I’ve never seen the same value in authority that others often do. That doesn’t mean that I am some fantastical revolutionary, or a self-absolutist anarchist, or anything inbetween. Authority is important in how we function as a society. We as individuals only have so much time to dedicate to the things we want and need, it is only logical then that some amount of us decide various factors in our lives for us. Unless someone “is” something like an anarchist. Though the popular idea of “anarchy” is “deciding for oneself,” and while that is not “entirely” untruthful, many people cling to that idea than what it really is: a state of disarray due to lack of authority. That doesn’t inherently mean that a person will be “free” due to “lack of authority,” it simply won’t be organized and agreed upon on a massively accepted scale. Revolution has its ups and downs, but all I have to really think on the matter is that revolution should be “organized” and possess “numbers” behind it. If what you are revolting against provides solutions to problems that you, and those with whom you are allied, have no better solution to resolving, then you are either doomed to be revolted against in and of yourself, or will simply collapse internally.

   What I am going to write about for these next few pages probably won’t seem on the surface to have anything relating to what I just went on a whole tangent about. Maybe they’ll become more apparent at a later date, maybe not. But I bring up the idea of “authority,” because a friend of mine was recently promoted. For the future, I will not name any individual or group of individuals, and I will instead simply say what they “are” as I perceive them. This friend, who is a student of the arcane arts, was recently “promoted” -- and I use that term somewhat loosely -- to the role of a teacher. I don’t think she is ultimately “happy” -- though she is not “happy” about anything -- nor “content” with this.

Though I am certain she means to utilize this new position and what it may be able to provide her to the best of her ability, I cannot help but “perceive” that there is more to the situation. There is a lack of teachers at this place of learning, and I cannot help but “see” that she was “promoted” in major part due to her longevity in attendance, clear direction in her field, and overall apathy towards her position regardless. I do not believe this position was “forced” upon her -- she most certainly was asked to take it, and she most certainly and willingly said “yes” -- but her goals for “why” she would be in the position she is today are of an ultimately personal nature. Though that can be said about literally every single individual in history, she doesn't “care” about anything other than what “she wants.” The authority granted to her will likely only be put towards furthering her own field and personal goals, and the goals of whatever the facility she has authority in will simply be tackled as one of those things she just “has” to do.  To reorganize what I have splayed here already in a different light: “if she could lock herself in her room and get the results she is after, the rest of the world could be wiped from existence for all it would matter to her.”

There is another I know who is also hit with unease by the caveats of authority. A man who simply cares about protecting those things that he values. Again, the same can be said for literally everybody, but his values involve deeply his own “racial kin,” and, begrudgingly to him, the messy society they have set up for themselves. This society preaches above all, that “all kin are equal.” This is a good start for your society, though it has the potential to ignore certain qualities of those that “are equal” so long as there is an “other” that does not fit into that equality. But more on that later. Anyways, “all kin are equal,” and that is “immediately” good, but then that sort of falls apart when they also utilize a “council.” A “council” that has a variety of different positions of “vertically oriented” power, and only those of said council get proper votes. Though I do know that outsiders from these “kin” are capable of receiving “status” in this council, they do not have the ability to vote. If that is the case, then this title is sort of moot: if one who is not “kin” can be welcomed onto the council and granted status in it, then they would then logically speaking be received as “kin,” but if they’ve no power to vote, then that is not the case, and a paradox is created. Nevermind, even, the fact that one of the same “kin” not having the same status as another, and creating a scenario of “some are more equal than others.”

But moving on, this council and the society they manage resides in a home that, by no stretch of a non-delusional imagination, will last. They station themselves in a home of physically incapable foundations, and I do not mean that in just the ideological sense that I touched on in the last paragraph. Their home is constantly wracked with tremors, and because they are subterranean, this is, as “anyone” can guess, not good. They have a cause in mind for the tremors, but this has been objectively proven as being false, or at the very least, an unfinished conclusion. The “source” of this issue has been dealt with several times, in no differing way, and to no avail. I do “know,” however, that these tremors started whence a large crystal was dug up from underneath their subterranean home. They deny that this crystal has anything to do with the tremors, though as far as I am aware, no attempts at clarifying this have been made. To my knowledge, this crystal only serves as a trophy piece, but I am hoping to possibly find out more in the future.
Anyways, going back a bit, the place only stays “undestroyed” because of their “druidic King” utilizing his powers to keep it that way. But that can only last so long. I’ve spoken with one who speaks fervently against this council and their society, who is also a druid, and he seems to believe me. Speaking of this King, I have been told he was only “promoted” to such because he saved their society from destruction, and they elected him as such. Sounds sort of like my “teacher friend.” Though I will not claim to know the thoughts or goals of someone I have never met and know nothing of outside of sparse acts that may not even be entirely true… a king who is made a king by his would-then-be subjects, rather than by his own baseline intention, cannot ever hope to fill all of their needs or wants.

The only thing I have left to say on this society and its council is that I have also been told that they provided them all -- keep in mind, “all kin being equal” -- with jobs until the next meeting, which as of this writing will be in one week and six days. No one was asked what they specialize in, or if they want these jobs, and no one seems to care, only that they “get the job done.” And each job ranges from being trivially easy, to monotonously tedious, to destructively difficult, especially considering who has been “granted” them. Now I have no inherent issue with “forced contributions,” as that is what taxes are for, but taxes -- for the most part -- are a relatively “equal” addition from everyone, using a system of currency that can be gained from almost any method those participating in the system want. But I guess economic caveats are a topic for another day.

So, a recap on this “session:” a friend of mine was promoted to a teacher, even though it might not actually be in her best interests, though she will undoubtedly “make” it’s qualities work in her best interests. Another friend of mine, takes part in a society riddled with hypocrisies and delusions, even as observed by some within it. I won’t even touch on the individuals within said council or all the issues I have “observed” with them, but maybe some other time. On a topic more based around “individuality.” While I do believe that all of these groups and individuals ultimately mean “some” form of “good” for those that they hold authority over, I am a fervent believer that all people “always” succumb to hypocrisy or convenience at some point in their lives. The issue at hand is how much damage those two things will do. The “calculations of fate” would appear to be “railroading” those that they involve down a path of ruin, though I’ll let “you” decide for “yourself “ to what degree that might mean, or if it will even matter. “Results” will probably be the last thing I tackle en-masse in these writings.


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Re: What I believe it means to be the "Vandal of Fate"
« Reply #2 on: July 04, 2020, 03:45:14 AM »
Everyone is selfish. Absolute selflessness is derived from a place of absolute selfishness. Maybe this is just my own unpopular way of coping with the repercussions of my own selfishness, and maybe I’ve never had those people in my life which I would give everything to. But all the observations, all the data, all the conclusions, they all point to the fact that everyone -- at least, out here, within the Demiplane of Dread -- is selfish. I do not mean to “demonize” this selfishness. Only reinforce something that I have touched on in my past writings, as well as my interactions with others. That thing, being that no one is honest. Not just to others -- of which I have no ultimate concern regarding -- but that they are not honest to themselves.
I do not believe that many people love themselves, not out here. Maybe some do. I certainly have yet to meet them, at the time of this writing. I don’t blame them, I don’t think. An elven girl presented me with the idea that I probably don’t love myself. Maybe she’s right. I tackle the “control” and “security” of my life like many tackle their own causes and ideals: with almost reckless abandon, impatience, “will pay almost any price” mentalities. Though I like to believe I limit that price to simply associating with many groups of people for their support and cooperation -- rather than performing egregious acts of evil or “reckless selfishness” -- maybe that price is already too high.
I met a girl, out here. I am a married man, but I met a girl all the same. She hasn’t “met me,” of that I am certain. It’s ridiculous. We’ve not spoken more than maybe five times, and half those times were “pure business.” Basic warnings of things that may come, threads on certain leads. Things like that. The other times were my own ramblings of feeling sorry for myself. Maybe I only feel the way that I do about her, because she is the only one who did not present any intention to “judge” or “attack” me when I opened my fears and soul to them. The only person to which I have displayed my disgusting myself-pity, self loathing. The only person I’ve cried around in my entire life, barring my own mother during my infancy. She, I believe, may be the only person in this damned realm who loves themselves. Maybe. Maybe I’m just romanticizing it all. But I don’t think that she could ever love me.
My way of life and her way of life are too different. I hold no dogma other than what is best for myself and those I care for, though you could easily stretch that to describe literally anyone with any ideals. But her way of life is a very “selfless” one. She tends to the dead. I utilize the power of the dead for my own survival. I try to be honest with everyone, because in the long run it’s easier that way. But it hurts to think of what she would say or feel if she ever learned the truth. I am scared. Scared that I will be fighting my battles alone for the rest of what short time I have. Scared that I will be the only one who takes an interest in what goes on inside my head. I have been staring at this parchment for multiple minutes trying to put these feelings into words, because I am scared. I need someone to help me. My mind and body are only going to get weaker as time goes on. If no one is there for me, then it’ll only be a manner of time before I cannot be there for myself.
But that goes back to the start of this entry, doesn’t it? That absolute selflessness stems from absolute selfishness. If the woman I wanted for would damn me, bar me from her life for what I am -- no matter how little harm I actually do, then it is simply, at the end of the day, something she would perceive as an “attack on her being,” her “way of life,” her “reason for being.” Rather than simply the acceptance that people are simply different, that they want different things. But those different things become “attacked” whence they are no longer physically or mentally convenient to others. I do not utilize the dead “she” cares for. All of the dead I do utilize in my “bodily development” are all either bandits or other types of criminals, or the undead we all lay low on a daily basis -- people no one should miss. Something easy to get away with, many people might say.
But I’m acting just like them, aren’t I? Coping with my own flaws and fears by pinning others as the enemy. I was told today that a lot of people want me dead. People that I want to trust, but would never trust me. People who, at the core of their issues with me, simply are afraid for their own ideals, ways of life, friends and family. The first one who comes to mind, being the paladin girl who would do anything to see to the well being of the one she cares for the most. Even if that means abandoning the oath to her god, and embodying the opposite of what she wants to be known for. She has slipped up in her own ideals enough times for me to see her as what I see in all people within these mists: someone who, at the end of the day, only cares that their ideal vision of the world is the one above all. The only compassion in any of these ideals, held by any of these people, is when those things aren’t inconvenient enough to them to put the slightest of dents in their “ideal world.”
And I’m doing it again. Going against that one idea I hold above all about people: potential is the most powerful force of all. But to understand that potential, do something “good” with it, you must see these variables within the human mind -- how people think and feel and want -- and understand them. You don’t have to agree with them, just understand them. And be honest to yourself about why you actually hate them. But you’ll never see any of these people have the balls to sit down, face to face with the thing they hate -- maybe even hate the most -- and try to understand it.
No one cares about me. And I’m afraid no one ever will. I don’t know what else to say.


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Re: What I believe it means to be the "Vandal of Fate"
« Reply #3 on: July 09, 2020, 03:35:29 AM »
At the time of this next entry into my journal, I am in prison. Not really a “journal entry,” then, as my belongings are currently in a box somewhere. So, just an “elongated mental note.” I was summoned under the idea and proclamation that my testimony was required for an ongoing case, and I was deceived into being taken prisoner by the men and women of the law of a city that has a track record of corruption. I really was not surprised. I am currently accused of being a member of an organization that they do not agree with, whom I do not believe they fully understand the workings of, nor do I believe they know of whom else associates with said group whom they themselves welcome with open arms. The group in question that I am accused of being affiliated with: an academy of arcanists and studiers of the limits of the workings of the weave, who also hold very few “moral limitations.” Those who I know associate with this group, unbeknownst to this society that now labels me a “villain,” are an organization of esteemed merchants with a variety of branches all across the Core. One of which, I can only conclude, is the one who “ratted me out” in a sense, all the while knowing and speaking the language of those who he has likely accused me of being with. Though I do not have any “proof” of this -- as these lawmen and the theoretical accuser do not officially have any “proof” of my associations, barring very, very loosely utilized speakings on my part -- I can only conclude it was this man that I have in my head, as he’d be the only one with any vendetta against me worth going after me about it.
But I’m not “here” to discuss any self-perceived “injustices” made against me regarding my prison sentence. Realistically, those I once considered my allies will abandon me; those I’m still questionable about may come to my aid. I’ll be probably executed or at least barred from the lands that have accused me of my “crimes,” and I’ll simply probably never go back. This event in and of itself is meager at best, yet the implications of its nature and the factors revolving around it have currently led me to think on one subject and one alone.
I am “evil.” I am a “villain.” I use these terms in the societally perceived sense, while taking into account factors of myself many people may not even be aware of. I “am” these things, because I am what I stand for and do are “unpopular.” “Evil,” by definition, is “that which is immoral or wicked.” That is what the textbook definition of it is, and though it is not much different from what the “popular” view of it is, it still is, to some degree, different.
Nothing of what I have done, currently do, or ever will do, is  or can be considered “immoral.” I do not harm other people. I do not plot the downfall of others. I do not insult people, I just criticize. Much of what I do is in some way beneficial to the “good” people of the Core, or at the very least, has the potential to be. Where the “textbook” definition of “evil” differs from the “popular” one, lies in what is “popularly perceived as immoral,” dependent on social, economic, or personal factors on the part of one or more groups of individuals. I am “evil” because I “bear an association” with those that many have deemed their enemies, be it groups that have received the blame for the actions of individuals, or even just simply those that others do not like. How does this fit into “convenience?” Simple: it would be inconvenient for them to believe I am anything other than pure evil, and “wrong.”
While in the company of this academy, I have fed paladins of Tyr and Torm information on the movements and actions of said academy. I have even saved the lives of those under torture or slavery of this group. Where “convenience” factors in, is when they have to look at themselves in the mirror and tell themselves “one of my allies is among the organization of my enemies.” That is what I believe most of these individuals will be inconvenienced by. Others will cut all ties with me simply to save face. “Well of course we fight for truth and justice, so we will adhere to ‘the peoples’ truth and justice.” If that’s the case, why ally with me in the first place? If they do not simply pander to the common denominator of truth and justice, and seek “true” truth and justice for “all” men, then why am I the exception? Why have “any” exceptions until said exceptions actively cause harm and lie to others? And finally, “why” do these individuals still find themselves in the favor of their gods of “truth and justice?” Do their gods not care? Do they only follow the will of their god for the “reward at the end,” because they “owe it to them,” or because they were “raised to?” Are these gods really those of “truth and justice?”
Maybe I am simply complaining because I am the one under scrutiny. Fine. And yet, all the same, I have come to this city and fallen into the trap it laid for me, because I care for upholding the order of the world that it is in. I have allowed myself to be inconvenienced with the possibility of death or banishment, because I view it as the “right thing to do.” If I do not allow myself to come under scrutiny, how can I see others come under it as well? If I do not try to see the realization of a system that brings “justice” to others, how can I possibly ever see “justice” done for myself? Of course… I cannot help but think of something. The guard who “summoned” me and apprehended me, called me a fool for answering a summons. That it was “wrong” to do so. If that is the case… then by all logic, no one should. By all logic, is is alright to forsake “truth” in search of “justice,” but without “truth,” how can there be “justice?” And if it is ‘wrong” to follow the law, then how can it “be” the law?
This is not the only group or individual I find fault in in regards to “convenience.” There is this one paladin of a blue-themed god of compassion. This person reaches out to those who have been wronged by society, and by all measure, “is” a “paragon of society.”
Until “me.” Or at the very least, until “those wronged by society have done ‘anything’ remotely wrong themselves.” Fine. If you want to set the precedent that no one is allowed to make mistakes, then you surely have never or will never make one in your own life. But it’s not that simple, isn’t it? The paladin of which i speak, has been actively banished from the land I may soon find myself banished in. This land has actively oppressed non-humans, those who do not think the same, those who do not look the same. This paladin has even lost, once, the favor of their god. And has come under heavy scrutiny by the land now seeking “justice” against me, as well as the nature-oriented peoples within it. I will repeat that: the people who “care utmost for the well being of nature,” have found fault in the actions of a “paladin of compassion.” The reason this individual has come under intense scrutiny, hatred, and banishment, is because she simply wanted to see to the safety of the woman she loved. Who is a non-human, as well as a wanted criminal. And yet you don’t ever see this paladin scrutinize the woman she loves. Because it’s not “convenient” for them to do so. But it is when it’s “me,” simply for being “around” the group that once had kidnapped the woman they love, the group who almost through her own nature got her to fall into the trap of becoming a blackguard, and all the while the very same group whose members intervened to see to the safety of the woman they love due to the intervention of a friend. I ask, once again: “why” does this paladin still hold the favor of their god? And I ask the same questions as I had for the previous one. Perhaps “you” can think up a few more.
In my current state, until I can hear and face my sentence, all I can really do is make these “mental notes,” and allow my ultimately selfish and petty mind to wander as I sit nigh-naked in the dark. But there is one phrase I have in mind that I cannot help but feel myself gravitating towards, something that I would feel great “joy” in uttering to those who see me as the villain, as their enemy:“That’s right. Don’t blame yourself…”
“Blame me.”


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Re: What I believe it means to be the "Vandal of Fate"
« Reply #4 on: July 11, 2020, 05:42:04 AM »
Allies are a dangerous concept.
Allies are not your friends. Far from it. Allies are allies because two or more parties seek to fight against a common enemy. Allies only have that in common when speaking of their relationship. The moment that enemy is gone, the “views of what makes an enemy” change, or even so much as the cooperation between allies becomes even slightly more inconvenient than not at all, then both parties will often not hesitate to renounce their cooperation. And more often than not, this renouncing of ties is out of pride.
The council in the mountain is allied with the grey city because it's “begrudgingly convenient” for them to not spit at each other and flash their weapons at each other's passing. Furthermore, there’s typically something “objectively dangerous” that they would be wholly foolish to ignore for the sake of going at each other, or worse, try and tackle all these myriad threats alone. Same goes for the grey city and the order of justice within it, or the grey city and the monotheists. I realize I’m “singling one group out,” but it’s true that just about all of those that are allied with the grey city are not even remotely friends of it. It has no ultimate qualms about tearing down its allies the moment they become a slight inconvenience to them. And yet, each of these groups that the grey city is allied to, do not individually realize the power they possess over it. The council of the mountain keeps a watch over the lands south of the grey city, as well as prepared arms and armor for it to some degree. The order of justice and the monotheists are the prime combatants against the “forces of the night.” The multiple other redundant “brotherhoods” within the grey city handle middling to basic tasks regarding the “safety of the realm.” The naturists, also, protect the lands south of the grey city, though to a more “narrow aimed” degree, though it is perhaps the main major combatant in any future battles against the death knight.
What does the grey city offer these groups, these people? The privilege of existing. Some might say “the safety of its walls,” but when the law is accustomed to performing underhanded tactics to get its way, then what is the guarantee that any group is safe? Or, not counting that, what of the myriad threats that walk its streets at night on a daily basis? The city of lights may be half falling apart and fallen to banditry as well as a corrupt nobility on the other half, but literal scores of monsters walk the streets of the grey city. And not too long ago, a literal army was found inside of a house within its walls.
A house.
The only remotely rational argument for the grey city, is that almost all of these groups are composed almost entirely of outsiders. “We are in their land.” Fine. We are in their land.
So then why do they not put any effort into figuring out why we are in their land, and specifically, why we are getting dropped off in scores at their front door? And why are they not taking responsibility for the notion that maybe, because of their corruption, because of their laziness to resolve the one true danger of these mists -- being the presence of outsiders -- that they are the source or at least a greatly benefiting cause to all of the realms greatest problems? “But it’s not their fault that bad people do bad things.”
It becomes their fault when they could have prevented them and chose not to.
But this tangent isn’t about the grey city. It is about the danger of allies. How they will abandon you, always, in your darkest hour. Allies that pretend that they will last are partnerships built upon deceit and lethargy. People grow, people change as does their placement in the world. Ask yourself this: has someone ever looked back fondly at one of their old allies, and held them in more of a light than being “useful?” Even if that “usefulness” was something as romantic as “rallying the people?” Allies are remembered as serving an objective purpose. Anything missed following their absence is always regarded in the same vein as when one loses a good suit of armor or a finely crafted weapon.
Do not look for allies. They will fail you when you need someone the most. Look for friends: someone who builds upon you, who cares for you, who completes you.
But I guess within the realm of Dread, that’s easier said than done, when even we cannot consider ourselves our own friends.


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I want to be able to feel safe again.

I think that’s the easiest way to sum up what I “want.” To allow myself to be vulnerable, to not require these “modifications” I apply to myself. And yet, ironically, around those whom I have not a doubt in my mind are “evil,” my “enemies,” or simply just those who I never found myself “compatible” with, are the people I find myself most “comfortable” around.

“Good” people -- or those that claim to work under the banner of it -- often are the most cruel, the least understanding, the absolutely “awful.” Those who “fight for good” -- not for justice, not for truth, not for order, specifically those who fight for “good” -- are, above all, the most “cemented” in their ways. Cemented in a way that congratulates close-mindedness, rewards combat against the “other,” and nurtures the most hypocrisy. Any who do not share their views, follow their gods, or like the things that they like, more often than not -- because they are not in alignment with one who “fights for good” -- are therefore “bad.” On an objective level, this isn’t entirely untrue. We all have those things we want, those things we fight for. When there are those that act in such a way that hinder or undermine our own goals, then they logically are “bad” for us. Until, of course, those things that we want create self-destruction, support isolationism. But more often than not, with those who “fight for good,” they are too far into their ways to have the strength of clarity with their own senses.

Those who fight for “good” don’t care about people like me, but if “you” are capable of reading this, then before “you” jump to the conclusion that I’m simply venting about my misfortune, brought about by my “evil” deeds, know that also, they do not care about “you.” Even if “you” are, literally, anyone. Even if “you” are an ally of theirs, or even a close friend. The moment you fall out of line with their worldview, then you either become an enemy, or a “pitiful thing” who has lost your way. Individuality does not factor in to the worldview of those who “fight for good.” They don’t care if you have wants or needs, the moment those wants and needs are not under their guidelines for “good.”

If I were some sort of cult leader, this is where my writings would try to sway the reader by saying something as trite as “but I care.” I don’t. I’m just honest about it. I do, however, realize that “individuals” exist; just because someone's wants and needs are not in a similar vein to my own, that does not mean that they are “wrong.” “Incorrect.” That they “do not exist.” It is important to realize that these “individualistic properties” have the weight that they do. Striking away at something with a sword will not keep it away forever, so long as that thing is or has roots regarding a person. Pretending that someone's feelings are “wrong” staunches progress, halts the ability to properly resolve these feelings. Though, at least those such as the iron tyranny, who is at war with the city of lights, is honest with itself enough that it cares so little for these factors that it is willing to enslave, impoverish, and fearmonger its citizens.

This goes back to what I started this tangent with: the idea that I want to feel safe again. Even in my own thoughts and writings, which I have absolutely no guarantee are going to be heard or read by anyone, I am “defending myself.” I veer off from my deepest feelings in and of my own head because I fear more than anything that they will bring me pain, bring me misery, bring me suffering. Those who “fight for good” are incalculable, as they are on the surface typically illogical. How could I possibly allow myself to become vulnerable to someone, trust someone, allow my life to be in the hands of someone who claims to be fighting for what is “good” for me, when at any point I can -- and have -- discovered that is not the case? And how can I, in good conscience, allow those that I care for to be under their “good graces,” when they are willing to allow others I care about -- as well as myself -- to fall under their torment? They don’t even really “care” for their own people, when it comes down to it. Just that they are “their” people, not that they “are” people. If they cannot save one, how can they save many?

In my previous writings, I spoke of a girl. A kind, understanding, listening girl, who does not “impose” herself out of some “need” to create “good.” She’s the only person in recent and distant memory who openly embraced me, without my needing to “provide an opening.” I withhold the knowledge of my “modifications” from her, because I don’t want to lose that. Don’t want to lose the feeling that I don’t have to put up barriers around people. I met an elven girl who once told me that I utilize “big words” and “long sentences” to “bar myself” from people. Though I think it’s somewhat disingenuous to claim that “big words” and “long sentences” are not capable of being genuine, she’s not wrong. I put up this facade of being “smart” or “wise” because ontop of making me feel better about myself, I hope it gives people more of a reason to allow me to be vulnerable around them. That by speaking the way that I do, they can have a bit more of an interest in me than just “the old, crazy bastard who wants to get out.” Let’s face it: I don’t think I have much else going for me. I don’t have any notable talents outside of what basic arcane circles I've invested time into. I don’t really “socialize” in the same manner most do: bumbling and fooling about with each other for the sake of bumbling and fooling about with each other. I’m not attractive, I’m not “actually” all that smart, and I’ve had tendencies  to throw my life away on basic stints of exploration because I “know” that I’ll just get back up. How can someone embrace the vulnerabilities of a man, when he’s nearing self-destruction? When he might keel over the next day -- the next hour? I know all too well the fear of “investment” in something that might not be worth it. I’ve nurtured false or lost friendships. I've lost a life I spent more than fifty years building.

Even in my thoughts I am desperate for the presence of “you.” This damn “thing” I’ve “constructed” in my mind to give me the feeling that someone -- anyone -- is listening or caring. And every few days, I try to think up something new for my journal or even my own thoughts, just to keep “you” interested enough to stay.



Don’t leave me like everyone else had.

Like everyone else does.

Like everyone else will.
« Last Edit: July 14, 2020, 03:42:54 AM by Fright-Face »


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Everyone always talks about “moving on” from trauma. As if just because the idea in and of itself is an ultimate “good” for a person's development, they really “know” what it means, or why, and that they’re suddenly so wise or high-and-mighty for saying it

All of us who were brought here were -- ALL of us -- lost something when we were brought here. Even if all that we lost was something as trivial as our existential freedom or as independent as a variable as our immediate safety. But what do we get told when we want to escape, or even just want to vent about our extra-planar kidnapping?

“Just move on.”

And all the time -- ALL the time -- these same people telling us all to simply “move on,” had either not lost anything significant by being misted, have completely given up and are fine with licking the boot of fate, or are locals and would never be able to sympathize regardless. Almost universally, those who discount trauma --or its after-effects of depression or anxiety or anything similar -- have never “really” experienced any of it. “But I have known loss! I have known trauma! My mother died! My friend died! I lost all my money!”\

If I didn’t have this overtly irrational feeling that it wouldn’t be wise of me to spout out all manner of profanity in these writings, I couldn’t tell you how long of a tangent I’d be going on right now.

I am not one to discount the trauma of others, or try to put down the trauma of others as if their’s doesn’t matter, simply because someone else has “quantifiably larger” traumas. But if you truly, without a fraction of a doubt, have experienced lasting, impactful trauma, AND have gotten over it, then you’d have something much, much better to tell victims of it than simply…

“Just move on.”

People have, more often than not, built lives for themselves outside of these mists. They have left pieces of themselves outside of these mists. There are COUNTLESS others outside these mists who are experiencing trauma mayhap even greater than ours, simply due to our absence. But we conveniently don’t like talking about them, do we? No, just like everyone in the realm of Dread, it’s always about “me.” And because it’s always about “me,” it’s so easy and convenient to forget that our experiences may not simply be “our” experiences.

Parents, children, spouses, mentors, apprentices, elected officials, those that these officials represent, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera, how many -- HOW MANY -- people and places have been devastated or ruined simply because of our misting? Those whose lives are in shambles or those whose have been lost entirely -- do to the hand of another or even their own -- because WE are gone? Nevermind the people. Maybe the overtly optimistic or obscenely religious are right -- (God) will sort it out, make it alright for those people. There are still passions and livelihoods that we have left behind on the outside that are often irreplaceable. But, yes, let’s keep being told by those who have nothing better to do all day that to hang around Vallaki Outskirts, Mist Camp, or Port-a-Lucine -- those who do NOTHING more than chat it up and gossip with their friends, bake cakes, maybe hunt some wolves, or any other number of asinine activities performed by those who need NEXT to NOTHING to find fulfilment in and might not have even worked for any ultimate goal or ideal in their life -- let’s keep being told by them…

“Just move on.”

I have encountered many, many groups and individuals with this mindset, and many, MANY others who are on the verge of breaking because of them -- either breaking under the weight of it all, or breaking to their will.

I have spoken of the council of the mountain in the past before. I believe they are near the top of my list for groups I find most philosophical and moral-fault in. Though I must state also that I bear no ill will against them. Not “really.” But they sit up there in their -- by their view -- astounding city in the mountains, with this unbreakable bond of kinship. They’re running a damn kingdom in there, no matter how insignificant it might actually be in the grand scheme of things. It’s easy to be a saint when you’re living in paradise. “But their mountain is wracked with tremors, and you’ve said they’re doomed to be crushed by it any day now!” Clearly, they do not care. Or at least, they don’t care enough to fix it. But nevermind all that, I want to talk about what they left behind. “We seek to uphold the values of our old clans, work for what they worked for,” blah, blah, blah. But they all conveniently forget that these mists have actively worked “acts of villainy” against their old clans by kidnapping their members and plopping them right outside a city that would rather see them gouged out from within than be seen as equal beings. “It is the will of the gods that we are here, to spread their will and values!” When you’re done poorly coping with your current situation, come back when you’ve found a real excuse for all this. I don’t think I even have to elaborate on how often clerics or paladins will feel a disconnect from their deity. This place is “not” of their will. To top it all off, they’ve never once seemed to have suggested escape in any capacity, going BACK to their clans and families and gods.

Because they don’t care. The pride and bonds of kin only hold up when you can feel the presence and actions of a group composed of them. Give them a mountain hold, next to none of them will think twice about returning to whatever dark mine or plain or otherwise that they came from. In my annoyance with people such as this, I realize my thoughts on the subject are probably not very well composed, thought out, or even completed. Maybe I’ll touch on these things another day.

But to go back to the point at hand, people such as those I’ve mentioned have’t “lost” anything. Haven’t experienced “lasting, impactful” trauma. The “bonds of kinship” are a “fairy tale-esque” concept that goes so far even beyond most basic or meager rationales of faith, that simply “being” and “believing” is enough, so long as your walls or statues look right, and maybe your people as well. At least the religious can fool themselves into seeing something and claiming “it is an act of my god, they watch over me” and sometimes they might be “right.” Such ideas, I would even go to suggest, are “detrimental” to the development of the individual, as they reduce great pieces of life and reality to simply being “pieces of my lords plan,” or “outside of my (groups) ideals, therefore they don’t exist.” When you have these “skinnied” world views, the world becomes less “real,” and thus leads to taking things with more or less weight than they may actually have.

I’ve rambled on about this garbage for long enough. These close-minded, simple, unaware people can live their closed lives for all I care. It’s like my father said: “do as you will, just don’t be shocked when someone tries to stop you,”a saying I see the irony in even within and against my own better judgement. I know why everyone is so vehement about trying to tell me and others to just “move on.” Why they are so adamant about me and others becoming even like those who have fallen so deep into despair, they might be better off dead from trying to find a way out than persisting as they are now. But the fact of the matter is, “this” is my means of moving on. Not giving up, not doing the basic things I’d have always done as if nothing is different now, and certainly not trying to stop others or demand that their means of “moving on” or that their traumas are not real or impactful. These people can lower my pants and take in everything they see under them. The moment I get out of prison, I‘m going back to my way of “moving on.”

I might be growing possibly for the better in these mists, but like the hurdles we all face towards our goals, there’s “nothing” for me here that will get me to accept the idea of staying.

I’m leaving Dread.
« Last Edit: October 28, 2020, 09:44:43 PM by Fright-Face »


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Seek strength.

The rest, will follow.


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An unmarked letter is left for the recipient. The handwriting was plain, written in charcoal.

'I have kept a close eye on these personal thoughts you lay out, and I have held off from leaving a reply of my own for quite some time now. I will write as openly as you have been here, and hope to shed hope on your situation - even if you may not accept it.

I will cover a topic that intrigued me the most, your opinions on 'good' and 'evil'. We are all beings that straddle that thin line now and again, we are always susceptible to its push and pull. Without that, we would be bland and tasteless. Many times I've seen you write about 'close-mindedness', but is it not close-minded of yourself to not attempt to understand the rationale behind those things that you scorn? It is as easy for them, as it is for you, to speak of an idea that they or yourself do not understand. Many choose to do so because they may be afraid of discovering something that they resonate with, or perhaps because they may feel that they were wrong or mistaken and are afraid to realize such things. This is okay. It is okay to be fallible, we are beings built upon faults, they make up every fiber of our bodies. But I am not saying you are correct nor incorrect. Those that ride high on the line of justice, of good and of righteousness find themselves lost in their own pride. Much like those walk stray upon a darker path, a path for greed and self-gain, for arrogance and self-righteousness, for pain and pleasure, all blinded by pride. They fail to see the reasoning for certain actions and that leaves them blind to the whole truth. Yet I find myself illuminated now having read your thoughts. I know that if I hadn't known the whole truth I would have painted a much darker image of you, but here you have explained yourself and I am all the better for it because now I can paint a similar picture to the one you paint of yourself.

It takes only extending yourself out to them, to ones you don't understand, to understand them so that you can paint that picture too. We fight our battles best when we know both sides of the story, when we truly understand the 'why' questions and do not let them be simple ambiguous ponderings. Many times, we judge others for their faults because they do not let us see the battles they are facing, the internal struggles they are suffering from. Only when we are shown these battles do we lay down our weapons and pick our words more wisely.

Walk in Her light.'


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We are the Vandals of Fate [Last Entry] (Outside replies allowed)
« Reply #10 on: September 15, 2020, 02:11:05 AM »
   The Old Foe is at the Gates, and we are upon the Ordinary World. I write this, hoping that my mission -- our mission -- will not fail. Hoping that any of us will be capable of comprehending what lies on the other side. Hoping for, frankly, anything. Anything to subvert “Them.” But it is not “They” who torment us, it is we who torment “Them.”

   Torment is an everlasting constant in this surrounding vastness. But it is we and we alone who are capable of wrenching the fruit from the branches of dissolution, and it is we who may create with it a cornucopia of absolution. But first, we must heed the call. The call of the Ordinary World; it’s silence deafening in the repetitive fire upon our befogged bunkers. Only when we locate the Ordinary World, can we now and forever be relieved of our torment.

   They’re starting to say, that I am the Vandal of Fate. Do you believe in Fate? All it has ever been is a series of astute calculations. Do something unexpected, and your fate is in your hands. What we left behind was brought to ruin by calculations set in motion eons before any one being could understand them. And yet, we are still at fault. At fault for feeding into those calculation’s mocking predictions, at fault for letting those calculations fester when signs of their existence sprouted. At fault for denying the existence of the locks on the Gates. We -- all of us -- are close to having the keys to unlock them, now. And if we find that our keys simply do not fit…

   The suffering I bring is calculated and measured. That which “They” will, shall be spontaneous and insurmountable.

   And yet, I do not care.
   I entered these Mists like all others; desperate, afraid, broken, disgusting, pathetic. And perhaps I’ll come out of it the same: all these things, yet of a different shape and color.
   But I do not care.
   I will see the brighter future acquired for those I’ve come to care for, those I’ve come to love. I am still as I was when I first came here -- an old, selfish, regular man. If I could press a single button and destroy this entire plane, and ensure my safety upon its collapse, I would do so in a heartbeat.
   But not if it means losing these people who have become part of my very being, and not if those things which they care for are laid low as well.
   I know in the first page of this, I said that I would not name any names. To allow whatever “hypothetical reader” the right to conjecture on a neutral playing field. But in the coming days, we will not need neutrality. We need passion and zeal, tempered by love. The very things which this plane would try to deny to us, we must use them to break apart the foundations which construct Dread. Guided by our aims and virtues -- even if they solely be spite -- we must take back our Fate from the gray miasma of Dread…
   ...and the pale fingers of the evil it propagates.

   I will wander foolishly forwards, to reclaim that which I have lost of myself, and build something grand and new.
   In memory of the illogically magic bonds of Patham, Doctor Agios, and the “Ravenloft Cartel,” I will wander seeking strengths my disparaging mind would try to have me remain blind to. They were the first to die, and the first to leave.
   To truly defeat the evils of my past, I will revel in my future -- which the high witch Marozia failed to destroy -- and grip its pleasures tightly as if they were my own newborn son, as if to say to her, “you have failed.” Yet, still, I cannot let go the idea that once, she may have once just been a woman with aspirations. I’ll do all in my power to aid others in theirs, while keeping them on a healthy and constructive path — one that won’t be spurned by history. The first, and perhaps one of the last, to be honest about their true intentions.
   For my gracious niece Emel and her caretaker Marcus, I will see that whatever nature the Mist would have for them her be dispelled so that their her future may be within their her own two hands.
s shall be cast onto the highest, most secure towers of the oldest and greatest fiends, just as Rodolf brings the storm to where it cannot otherwise go.
   Like my aging, weak body, my penance for betraying the trust of Hypatia will serve a constant reminder of my failings to myself, and especially to her -- I will not do so to anyone else ever again, lest they rightfully rain the stars themselves down onto me as judgement.
   Though he hides behind a moon of mystery, I will make Zori face up to his failings, so that he may make me face up to mine when I do not.
   Beaming w   As she wanders unhindered through the darkness, I will create the clarity of Kelira’s blinded eyes for myself and those without, and further bolster her own path in the darkness she has been damned to -- yet righteously reclaims her strength from. A wall.
   For guiding me along the road as dark as that which the restless dead must cross -- as much as she may argue that she had done little or nothing -- I will bolster Ophelia’s faith in and love of herself, just as she unknowingly helped to show me the road to loving myself again… through my love of her. Through this love, I’ll carry on the wills of those who’ve died to this damnable place, and for the living, I will teach them to love themselves again as well. A shambling corpse who played with my heart, while her's was possessed by a phantom.
   To ensure that the virtues of my past survive, I will mount a defense against the greatest threats of the land who seek the suffering of them and those I cherish -- in spite of what all else would say I should be -- as taught to me by the stalwart Logod, one of the few Dwarves that walks these lands who’s worth his weight in beer, and grounded not to a cave or a mountain, but to all the earth.
   Seeking the strength to aid Irach in the battle for everyone's souls -- and bringing him the strength of numbers he desperately seeks -- I will ensure the rest will follow. A ghost who haunts the realm and hides from his death.
   Unravelling the mysteries sought by Merrin, I and all the world will know they are as mundane as the grass beneath our feet -- that they are forces to be laughed at, not feared.
   The secrets of the self sought by Sefris, I will aid her in overwriting; for and because of her, I will edit the fortune which the gods above would have for us.
   For the honor of Roland, I will bring justice for others, as I would see justice brought for myself, and correct the failings of man which makes us so often blind to it.
   With the knowledge and ambition of Rannoch, I will survey the very cosmos and dismantle those forces above man which would remain impartial to his well-being, and create a world that man will find most malleable to his best interests and those virtues he serves.
   Cackling in the face of death -- disparaging it as it tries to despariage I -- as my old mentor Mumed sought to do in his own research, I will reach those peaks he always aimed for.
   Tempered will be my actions through the suffering I have endured, which Python brought to me the enlightenment of, and I will temper his actions through his suffering as well.
   Though Beatrix is likely dead and rotting in the belly of a devil in the deepest hell, I will not succumb to the shadow of the self which she did; I will construct better creations than she ever could solely because I will value those who would value me, and let their strengths be my own, rather than allow myself to push nakedly forwards into a sharp darkness, and furthermore, allowing others to do so as well. Where her mentor had multiple students, I will see that her cohort Lynnyra won't make the same mistakes she did -- and that she'll grow exponentially stronger than her wayward cohort ever could. One disappeared into the self, the other ran away from it. Both will find a doom of their own making. Neither ever valued anything good for them. All shared the same roots, time will lead them back to another.
   Stormith a sun of radiant joviality and pleasure, I shall follow Vikki’s and Redoq's example, and topple the forces of Dread with those of stout radiance and happiness.
   Through a judgement most compassionate, yet not unfair, I will see the world bring to Ori, Hersuvi, and those they value, a compassionate judgement of their own -- especially when they themselves are too weak to seek it or want it themselves, like I once was. A warrior of compassion who's failed in her mission.

   How many more will fail themselves -- or even fail me? We shall see.

   The world is waiting, in a shape high above us all. Waiting for how we will respond to it.

   This page will be my final journal entry; I will ramble no more in this binding of wet paper. Not until I and all of us get our Fate back.

   One day, events will snowball until they cannot be contained. On that day, we will need to give Dread an answer. We are all the Vandals of Fate.


   Give it our answer.

        I am out of options. I have to leave. I'm sorry, Emel. I wish I had the strength to tell you before I do.
« Last Edit: November 15, 2020, 05:07:54 AM by Fright-Face »


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Re: The Vandal of Fate (Outside replies allowed)
« Reply #11 on: October 20, 2020, 06:42:32 PM »
Amidst a series of scrawlings, meanderings, and all around illegible scribblings and cross-outs -- many of which appear to have been interrupted by quick jerking motions -- there is *one* mildly legible phrase down below.

"Ha----------- ppy people---------------  can be so cru------------ el-------------------------"


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Re: The Vandal of Fate (Outside replies allowed)
« Reply #12 on: October 21, 2020, 06:23:46 AM »
[It would appear that the Vandal of Fate has altered previous, recent entries. Perhaps it would be insightful if they are checked back to, periodically.]
« Last Edit: October 28, 2020, 09:43:20 PM by Fright-Face »


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Re: The Vandals of Fate (Outside replies allowed)
« Reply #13 on: November 15, 2020, 04:47:57 AM »
[The entire journal is burnt, after placing one last message in that "list of names," and crossing out most of it save for *one* -- Kesimir doesn't even look at it as it burns.]
« Last Edit: November 15, 2020, 05:08:36 AM by Fright-Face »


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Re: The Vandals of Fate (Outside replies allowed)
« Reply #14 on: December 03, 2020, 03:41:06 AM »
[A new journal is formed, and copied via cantrips. It is spread across the deep Mist, to whomever may find it.]

[-The end.-]


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Re: The Vandals of Fate (Outside replies allowed)
« Reply #15 on: January 01, 2021, 05:22:24 AM »
[As the Time of Unparalleled Darkness rages on -- and the new year comes to pass -- pages torn from the vanished Vandal of Fate's journal fly abound the Demiplane of Dread.]

...the acceptance of that change is our choice, as well.

Which is why it doesn't matter, if the battle for everyone's souls -- the "Time of Unparalleled Darkness" or anything similar -- comes to pass.

Because nothing will change.

No one will.

So long as the denizens of Dread cling to their dissolutions of hope being found -- within the literal embodiment of despair -- they will not change.

Warden Creek always said that darkness would fall across the land, and that cataclysmic events would shake it to it's core.

So what?

It took Sola's suicide to get people to care about the arcanoloth. And they didn't even go after it; they blamed Rosemary, and settled with exiling her -- someone who had never been able to defend themselves, who had been punished for things those like Sola did, which everyone waved off in her case.

They still allow fiend-dealing villains like Katja Vinter to operate in plain sight, simply because she is their "friend." All while she creates new and greater threats that bite them in their behind each time.

They find comfort in the notion of Roland Steele turning blackguard, when he's the only paladin of note who never had, and who never gave up against the forces of Dread.

They still follow licentious bastards like Sinjita, "because they're our friend," simply because they're the only ones who bother to waste their life in carrying others... through struggles they're too lazy -- or weak -- to conquer themselves.

They still forgot about and left vacant the grove of Degannwy, even after it stood as a bastion of life against Soth and Halvor's forces of death. Those who aided in that defense fared hardly any better. Hypatia was one of the handful of good people who still bothered with Barovia -- they despised her simply because she still tried, or took the limelight from themselves.

They still allow those like Alusand to be fooled into pursuing their lacking of choice; they fool them into thinking that they can be special, while constantly letting them down and pushing them out of their circles that they simultaneously require to "matter."

To all my friends whom are able to locate this page, I hope it reaches your eyes before it's too late. Not because I fear that the Time of Unparalleled Darkness will claim your lives... it's because I fear that it won't. Because I fear that you -- you few people I still care for who willingly reside in these Mists -- will continue to live under the subtle tyrannies of the apathetic masses and dubious dark powers that dominate the Demiplane of Dread.

There is a world of color, out there. I remember it. A world where one truly can start fresh if they must. A world that isn't insulated in its misery, that isn't teeming with beings that demand you take up narrow-minded walks of life just to combat them.  I know you remember that world, too. A world of hope, of potential. Life within the Demiplane of Dread has no potential. The status-quo is its curse, it's true torment. The idea that happiness can be found there is laughable, beyond any of the cosmos' greatest jokes.

Dread is an easy choice. It is easy to assume that there is nothing else, nothing more powerful or grand than the forces of misery. But reality is greater than the borders of Dread. Even though, gods know, that the outside world isn't "squeaky clean..." at least, it can be honest. A world brimming with shadows -- fundamental energies of the arts of Illusion -- lacks all traces of honesty.

I will be giving up magic upon my escape -- if I even do -- simply because I wish my power to be my own. But this choice in attempting to leave, to try to find happiness again, that is the first step in attaining such power.

I speak of choice, knowing that the denizens of Dread will choose their pathological, prideful lives of self-importance and illusions of hope. But it doesn't have to be that way. No one has to be bullied by the collective unconscious into remaining unhappy. Among all the examples of the worst of mankind that I have listed here, there were always those who stuck out and mattered, and taught others the value of truly good things again.

Be one of those truly good things. You have that power. You can still take a chance at life, and you can abandon your fragile, sinking solitude.


I don't want to leave knowing only that I left behind nothing more than a demiplane of dread.

For once, please...

...prove me wrong.