The city hasn’t been the same. Ever since the reclamation of Itoni the city is becoming more steeped in death… After all those deaths the veil between worlds has become thinner. Genocide is just the thing to do that, and there was no shortage of death on either side. A way was torn, but it hasn’t stopped. I’ve felt it, at night when I hunt, the hunger of the Shadowfell is pulsing into this world. Right now the tide has receded, I know it will return. The tide will come in and I don’t know what is going to wash up on shore. All I can do is prepare, prepare and make sure I do a better job of saving this city. Been keeping the lowlifes out of it as much as possible so those that do live here can thrive. Sometimes I feel like it’s the best I can do
Last time I’d come too close to death, I’d been gotten caught off guard. I can’t stand the feeling of those whispers. I can’t tell if it’s just my imagination or not anymore. I’d been close to the edge too often for my taste. Now I’ve got this arm as a reminder. It’s mine, but it’s just not mine. I can feel it, it’s a part of me, but it’s just not mine. So I’ve become an instrument, this life isn’t mine anymore. It belongs to those who’ve stood by me and to those that can’t stand on their own. I want to carve out the rot on this city so it can live. A lot of people don’t think things can be the way the used to be, I think it can. I’ve just gotta make it happen.
I’ve got to make it happen before I end up like Haplo. He’s my other reminder. He’s sold his soul, only not to the Shadowfell. I can’t help but think it’s gonna be worse for him. I almost did it. Let the bigger dog take the bone, see if I get split down the middle. Don’t know how many more times I can be split, I’m pretty broken as it is.