Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Day Six, Part Two

Kurtok the Slayer, as I suppose he's known among his clan, was found to be responsible for the invasion into the Northshire Valley.  If he's the head of the Blackrock Clan or just this division, or he's a mercenary, I don't know.  But they told me to kill him, so there I was.  Wading across the river again, through the vineyards, and around the burning trees.  For some reason, I destroyed each orc I came across.  I smote them from a distance, then continued rampaging against them.  If I was quick enough, I could kill them before they were even within axe-swinging distance.

I don't know why I did this.  I think I'm still frustrated with what I experienced yesterday.  No one seems to acknowledge it.  Maybe I don't discriminate in my battles anymore, now that I know what's on the other side.  We're all just in timeout, until we can get back on the field.  all these orcs may be coming back.  And the scary part is, I think I proved myself right.

I finally found the corner of the mountains where Kurtok was standing.  Just standing, not planning strategy, not engaging in battle, not communicating with superiors.  Just standing there, in a gate.  So I did what any well-meaning suicidal healing mage would do, and cast my spells at him.  He reacted in the same rhino-like way as his brethren.  He approached me and started swinging.  But it was over in a matter of seconds.  I looked at his corpse on the ground, feeling disappointed.  Maybe I wanted him to kill me.  Maybe I wanted him to become my immortal enemy, where we would continue this dance of death for eternity.

As I was about to leave, I turned back and saw his form fade back in, to the exact place he was standing before.  Standing at the gate, watching, doing nothing.  I don't know if I could get anymore proof that we're all simply mid-level husks, floating back and forth of the line of life of death.  So...  I killed him again.  Effortlessly.  And before his body showed up a third time, I left.

I don't know if I've resolved my feelings about this.  I seem to be downpouring on a tremendous advantage -- who wouldn't want to be immortal.  But on the other hand, it feels like something's fundamentally changed about life.  As if everything I thought was truth was just a lie.

When I returned to Marshal McBride, he thanked me for my service, and offered me a wand as a reward.  Now this was a trip.  In my world, wands were only from fairy tales and storybooks.  It was a bizarre looking thing too, all gnarled and gray.  Then he told me I was dismissed.  I couldn't quite process that at the time, so I asked if I could stay in the abbey one more night.  He said I could stay as long as I liked.

--Caden Watkins

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