Charakter

Nai, C'rrahsa, and I spent some time in the Shroud today... we were working on our conjury. I don't recall as I'd mentioned here yet that I'd taken it up. I wish to be of greater service to those I fight for, and to have another conjurer among our ranks seemed like it would be of great aid. Still, it's been a more difficult endeavour than I thought.

Not least in that today's outing marked my first slip.

We sought out some poachers, so that C'rrah might take down a couple of them and report back to her guild. We only meant to tarry a while, and take the minimum of lives. But when I saw them-- Keepers all, so like the tribe from which I hail-- something irrational and vast overtook me. My world swam in a sea of red, and all I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears, the drumbeat pounding of my heart. The drums I played for Y'shtola last night-- their sound had faded, and again my hands, my blood, stirred to that old tribal rhythm. Fear gnawed at my stomach like a worm. I moved on instinct.

I struck, and struck, and struck again. I could think only of putting them down, of felling every last one until their hands could grab for me no more, lest they drag me back to the pit I so feared. I hated, more endlessly than I knew I could hate. I wanted blood.

I felled one after another, until Nai brought me back to myself with sharp rebuke. I needed it. For a time, I remained in something of a daze, but it was enough to get me moving. But now, now I've had time to think, to be alone, I am struck by the horror of what I did.

The monster that Curious Gorge warned me I might become... it was there, today, behind my eyes. I did not have the strength to best it.