Rappan-Athuk Reborn

Writings of the Fallen

Friends and Foes

From the Chronicles of Da’Mar, former Guardian Priest of Sarenrae Wealday, the 23rd day of Sarenith, in the year of 4116

A glimmer of hope flashes in my darkened mind. Strange. As I have met new people in this accursed place to either help me survive or me to watch as they too leave, become lost or fall slain to the many denizens that occupy this place. Place isn’t the apt name for something that stretches the horror of your imagination beyond reason. I was never really threatened to continue to follow this Orcus but I now fear for my own safety and those I came here with. Though I know many no longer consider me a friend. I can not blame them. The darkness is an insistent voice inside me – beckoning and unforgiving. Perhaps this was his plan all along. To take away my spirit, thrall me, and watch me on my knees as madness take over. Perhaps my old allies will see fit to end me… I may welcome it before too long. To continue in this way is no life. I was not promised anything – other than their lives. And given how we have almost perished a dozen times since then, I doubt very much Orcus or his minions care what truly happens to them – or me. Like being left alone in a lifeless desert with no food or water…waiting for the environment to take you. I will welcome death when it comes….



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