A Savage Journal

[zerotje]

Tribes of ash have no longevity, it is a violent and glorious life. Glory however was taken from me, having been the only survivor of the onslaught of Clan Spinesplitter. How the days haunt me, aswell as their ghosts, justly so. For I did not join them in the final stand, I fled like a coward, like a boy.

Weak as that was, I grow weaker still, walking within the walls of Ephia's Well. Laws that protect small Ashfolk, who believe in pacifism as a virtue. Laws that protect frail Elves like that Rilathar.

I will never earn redemption from my dead tribesmen. But I do not need it, what I need is a glorious death and a glorious life. Only then will I ascend and become greater than I am in the life that comes. I will not drown in the Edutu or be carried. I will swim against the stream itself and visit the house of the Gods.

The weak; my prey.