New words to live by. Ones, spoken by the man that I love...Yes, I love Grageth. Now, I just need to tell him this...
'Death to traitors. Death to all who oppose Cyric. Bow down before the supreme power of Cyric, and yield to him the blood of all who do not believe in his supreme power.'
'Fear and obey those in authority-but if they are weak or given to pursuing airy goals of vague goodness, slay them in the name of the Dark Sun. Battle against all clergy of other faiths, for they are false prophets and forces who oppose us.'
'Bring death to those who oppose the rightful church of Cyric and those who seek to make or keep peace, order, and laws. All rightful authority comes from Cyric, and all other authority must be subverted.'
'Break not into open rebellion, for when hosts march, all faiths and gods awaken. It is better by far to fell one foe at a time and keep all folk afraid, uneasy, in constant strife-and under the spreading tyranny of Cyric.'
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Cyric. The name of the One True God echoed throughout my head as I thought back through the past few weeks. My gaze traveled down to the symbol of the Dark Sun that hung from my neck and I reached up to reverently trace the image of the skull with one hand.
For a moment I was back in the house of my youth. Time did nothing to change the feelings I harbored still towards my father. A dark smirk bloomed on my lips as I recalled the breaking point; tying my father with strong rope, and watching him curse me, then beg for his pitiful life. As the flames neared his room, I ran outside, getting as close to his window as I could, listening for it. I heard his muffles and screams, but finally the one I had yearned for, the scream when the fire had consumed him fully. I had found freedom for the first time in my life by murdering him. A release that comes with every murder I give my god.
Drawing my attention back to the present, I smiled as I looked around my surroundings. My home. There are not many places one can live with that type of freedom and it did take a long time for me to find a place that still had a place where I could find the type of pleasure I did so strive for. The current Lord of the Tent Town is one that allows many liberties and although rumors circulate of a new mercenary guard moving in to establish order, they are easily convinced to look the other way.
For common sport, I find that killing merchants and travelers along the Trade Way does nicely and although the rush is short lived, it works when I can find no other to satisfy the urges that the Dark Sun send to me. Murdering them was easy, but in some ways, I was helping them; easing them from their pathetic lives. It was what drew the attention of Lord Grageth to me and allowed the generous offer to join the ranks of the faithful. It was no small murder, though, that has gained my ranks within the religion. Murder, alone, is not the portfolio of our Lord, but just one of many. I have become trained in the ways of strife and deception, as well as murder, in my service to the One True God. The Lord Grageth was very much pleased at how I had handled Tem not long ago when he ventured into the small wagon commonly known as Odarion's Bearded Wench.
Begging and pleading for aid, he sobbed out a story of being attacked by a powerful wyvern, deep in the Forest of Wyrms. Inwardly, I laughed at his pathetic attempts for pity and knew that he must be taught a lesson. Ignorance should be punished and his crime was overwhelming. I put together a plan mentally as I told him that I would go with him to aid him in his time of need. As we hastily traveled through the forest, I finished the details of what I would do when we reached our destination. I knew the wyvern den and also knew the details of the wyvern's mate, which would have had time to travel back by now. I spoke quietly, telling Tem to hurry inside.
The ignorant fool waltzed into the cave, unarmed, and I found it hardly could hold the laughter in when I heard his surprised shout from inside the cave. He stumbled out, a dazed expression on his face turning to shock when I drew my sword from its sheathe and smashed the hilt into his head. He dropped to the ground and I rolled the body back to the cave, knowing that the wyvern would find it and eat it while I made my escape. I wore my joy upon my face the entire journey back to the Tent Town, knowing deep in my heart that Grageth would be pleased and that fact made me even happier.
I have ended up sharing a room with Lord Grageth, but nothing else. There is a realization dawning now inside of me that I not only respect and admire him, but I have fallen in love with him. It seems foolish to even hope, nay, to dream of being with him while he holds the responsibilities of the Hand of Cyric, but I shall await my time.
There will be time for more, later, but now I go. I hunger for the thrill.