The Bleeding Woundwart

[KovosDatch]

Of all the monsters and creatures I have hunted, all pale in comparison to mankind.

Look to the neuri. Look to the vrolok. Look to the imortji, the construct, the outsider. It is clear what they are. It is clear what they do.

But mankind... mankind is a little different. One can look upon the visage of the sweetest face and never see the murderer behind their eyes. One can listen to the honeyed words of a chivalrous beaut without ever knowing it is all just a lie.

I remind myself that there are the beasts without and the beasts within.

[KovosDatch]

It was five months ago when she taught me how to navigate the mistways. And ever since, I have felt the mists beckoning to me.

Why is that? Why do I feel so at home within the mists? Perhaps it is because everything in the mists is real.

Even if the disorienting paths switch and change at will, they are true, real in that moment. That path may be gone the next time, but while I am there, I can walk it like walking the streets of Vallaki.

Even if the twisted spires and shadowed woods are filled with creatures unspeakable, I can reach out and touch the cobbled walls. I can feel the breath of the ebon cats upon my skin.

The mists are nothing. The mists are everything. The mists are horrible. The mists are beautiful.

And at the end of all the paradoxes, the mists are true, not only from the outside, but from within.

[KovosDatch]

Redemption. Justice.

What a delicate balance offered to those who walk these lands.

We hope that all find redemption, but how often do we wait too long? How often do we hope for redemption in vain?

And how quickly are we to condemn the damned? To enact justice where justice is due?

Do we hope in vain that those who would do harm unto others will turn away from their actions? Do we idly await for a change while they still cause suffering? How much suffering warrants action?

When is enough enough?

[KovosDatch]

I cannot sleep without waking in terror. The smell of burning flesh plagues my dreams.

“Morning has broken
Like the first morning,
Blackbird has spoken
Like the first bird...”

Come, now, my blackbird. Come from within. Raven wing shadows. Talon-sharp daggers.

Morning has broken. Blackbird has spoken.

Light come from the shadows, and shadows, come from the light.

Beloved Bleeding Woundwart.

[KovosDatch]

Shrump. Shrump. Shrump.

Words cut deep into the heart like a wood saw into lumber.

Chiit. Chiit. Chiit.

Circumstances wear down the soul like a file on wood.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Actions shape the mind like a chisel on antler and bone.

At last, the work is complete.
Terrible masterpiece.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

My heart bleeds out with the darkest of ichor.

Urrr. Urrr. Urrr.

My soul groans with the pain of a hundred damned souls.

Chatter. Chatter. Chatter.

My mind races with no end in sight.

I am a forsaken person from a forsaken people in a forsaken land.
Thy lips be cleansed.

[KovosDatch]

It speaks to me.

I hear It in the dark recesses of my mind. It tells me I am not loved. It tells me I am not worthy.

It tells me I will not be missed.

Morning has broken,
like the first morning.
Blackbird has spoken,
like the first blackbird.

Talons grow. Wings appear. The harsh reality that nothing is real.

[KovosDatch]

I am alone. They left, and left me to deal with this.

I am alone. The raven will soon arrive.

But I have it at bay. The raven will not come so soon.

She tells me I will be there and she will be here.

Terrible masterpiece.

[KovosDatch]

The memories have come back.

The pain remains, the body wears down, but the mind and will are stronger than ever.

They wanted to break me.

They failed.

My dear friend told me I am stronger because of this. I am strong because I have those around me who love and care for me.

They have no such kinship. They are allied by weak bonds and half promises.

The Dawn perseveres.

[KovosDatch]

Suffering still abounds. At what point will it end?

I did not cause this. They did. If it was not me, it would have been someone else.

I remind myself daily.

[KovosDatch]

I still hold that mankind is the worst kind of monster out there.

Between the foul necromancer in the crypt to those who assassinated me, is there any evil mankind is not capable of?

Still, the Dawn comes. Light will prevail.

[KovosDatch]

Where there was one, now there are three.

I have been blessed that talent has found its way to us. We can do some real good in our duties now.

Dawn be praised.

[KovosDatch]

It is time to return to my roots. To be who I want to be.

Papa was a carpenter. I remember sneaking into his workshop to watch him with his craft. Mama would get so cross, telling me I would get hurt if I played in there.
Papa never seemed to mind. In fact, he used to show me what he worked on.

I suppose it is my turn to take up the craft. After all, axes are about all we can use without being arrested.

My kin believe that the way up from our shackles is through rebellion. It isn't. Rebellion has done nothing but made our neighbors hate us, making us look like murderers and thieves. We can not longer even own boats because of the Black Army.
...My parents are dead because of the Black Army...

Hard work, education, diplomacy, these are the ways to a better life.
And I will help carve that path.

[KovosDatch]

I have made a few sales since I started working my craft again. It is slow going, but I take pride in my work.

Perhaps my life can return to some semblance of normalcy.

But who am I kidding? I live an abnormal life with an abnormal family...

And I wouldn't trade it for the world.

[KovosDatch]

The misery, the grief, the toil...

I have found an escape.

The Dawnfather smiles.