A Soul as Black as Ash

[Higher Porpoise]

Let him burn. Let them all burn. Burn and be buried in the rubble of the whole thrice-damned manor. It had been silent at first. Deliberate. Now the whole plan was out the window, well, if there were still windows.

They had all deserved it. Every bloated plutocrat, with their backroom dealings and bodies adorned with blood diamonds. Especially one, though. My father, may his soul keen eternal from the Wall. My father, for raping my mother. My father, for every blow he struck against me. My father, for creating a monster.

I wasn't always this way. I was a child once, like many. Sure, my features may have been.. slightly off, as they are now, likely the result of my parents' bastardized union.. but innocent. Smiling, even. Laughing? Never, but smiling perhaps. I had been happy in the foster home, but my father later decided that it was time to assume his responsibility, if not only for the successor it would create for his empire.

I wanted nothing to do with his wealth from the start. All of it had the stench of corruption. Each coin felt slick with the blood spilled to obtain it. Oh yes, I knew better than to trust in the facade.. and that is why he hated me. He had wanted a lapdog, fit to continue the line of his black seed. I wouldn't have it, so he beat servitude into me.. but only until I could stand on my own two feet. He learned to time his blows well, lest he find one swiftly returning.

But soon, I found the blade...

[Higher Porpoise]

The first few pages are filled with highly detailed charcoal sketches. One of these pages is torn out.


The first picture is of a hooded woman sitting on a bench in front of a campfire. Her clothing and hood are black, and the features beneath nearly as dark.

The second is actually a trio of drawings, each of a chainmail-clad woman and pony-tailed, armored man. The first shows the man with little hearts floating up from his head, and the woman is stabbing the largest of them with a dagger. The second shows the pair again, though this time it is the man who is being stabbed, a dagger wedged in his neck, and the woman is laughing. The third shows the same woman, but the man is replaced by a gnome, his armor roughly twice the size that was meant for him.

The last picture of note is of the campfire across the bridge, empty of people, fire doused. It was likely drawn from across the road.

[Higher Porpoise]

First Entry (Not Dated)

-Thrice-damned city. Bounty hunting loses its charm when the only bounty is on a little drow half-blood girl, and I know who it is. No sport in that, but money is money. Next time I see her, she's dead.

-Spent a lot of time at the FAI lately. Only place with cheap whiskey that doesn't smell like piss. Must be a new establishment. Apparently the proprietor's been missing for two tenday now and the gnome behind the bar was a Thayan doppleganger. Some holier-than-thou pair of paladins and a living saint (imagine that) are waiting on a scryer before they continue the search. They can all pike off; I only helped because I wanted my drinks.

-Went on a wild damned goose chase in the hilltop ruins. Some blue-skinned tiefling summons a kobold and runs off only to return five minutes later wearing leathers and a silly hat, claiming that he was "robbed". I followed him into the ruins just so that I could off him, only to have somebody else beat me to it! Mist and Shadow! Arrrgh!

-Good news: No Zhents as of yet. Shouldn't be long before they track me down, but they'll need to tread lightly. Word is people around here hate them almost as much as the Thayans.

-More good news, well, sort of: A girl. No, not the half-blood whelp. An angel. I still don't know what it is, but I adore her. I drew a picture of her the first time I saw her, but I threw it away. Well, I had meant to, but it missed the fire! And then she picked it up! I'm ruined. I just know it.
... Guess that's not good news at all.

-To-Do List: Sell this damned cloak. I don't want some prissy little thing that makes me look nice at dinner parties. Maybe the coin will buy some real armor. Mithral chain...?

[Higher Porpoise]

There is a new picture in the front pages, another landscape. It shows the sun setting above the high walls of Baldur's Gate from across the Chionthar.

Second Entry (Not Dated)

Sometimes I wonder how cut out I am for Gods-worship. I'm not really all that deceptive, try as I might, and it's not like I've stuck with any sort of dogma. I guess it's just comforting to have someone else to blame when things go awry, even if I did simply come across Her name in an old book.

-No sign of "Aura". She's probably fled by boat or somesuch by now. Some bounty hunter I am.

-Still waiting on my damned "delivery" to show up. Not knowing who to look out for has me on edge. I hope my only trusted contacts haven't finally turned coat; I'd hate to have to kill them too.

-The angel, Scarlett, hasn't mentioned the picture yet (thank the Lady), even though I managed to make small talk at the campfire. Don't know what I'd do if she confronted me about it, probably choke up... Make a fool of myself...

Gods, she's already romantically involved, so what am I worried about? Her being offended? I didn't mean for her to have any clue of my feelings. It was supposed to be nothing more than an ideal, to love her from afar. Just to give me one bright spot in the midst of this cat-and-mouse Hell, but now I've gone and ruined that too.

-To-Do List: Try not to turn scarlet around Scarlett, and SELL THIS DAMNED CLOAK.