The lands are desolate. A storm is rolling in. Wind howls through the mountain perch of this ancient fortress, blowing with it the dust of ages and the history of your predecessors. But it is an anguished howl for the blood spilled in the name of freedom in the long winding path known as time leading up to the now.
It is your thirteenth birthday, and as with all twelve preceding it, something feels missing from your life. Your lost freedom is yet another stark reminder of your place in the world, not as Savior, but as Destroyer. A role which you had gladly played up until it had robbed something of great value, not to yourself, but to those you loved. In that loss, you were deemed guilty and cast off like so many bloodied and stained bandages. It is the price you will solemnly bear for however long it takes until penance finds you.
“The tongue of a man is one half, and the other half is his mind, and here is nothing besides these two, except the shape of the blood and the flesh.” - Ahmed Shawqi
You’re certain that Ahmed Shawqi wrote that. Completely one hundred percent positive.
You have a feeling it’s going to be a long day.
For those of you who follow my Assassinbound blog, you probably got a fun surprise this morning in the form of an update flood. If you don’t follow my attempt at an MSPA styled fan adventure, then check out this sweet flash video I made! :D
