Bernard leans against a tree, writing in a small, leather bound book that looks like it's seen better days. His massive great sword lies not even an arm's reach away, and a fire crackles in his recently made fire pit. Bernard's emerald eyes move back and forth as he writes, placing his thoughts within.
He writes: It's been over a week since I fell into this place. I think I've shook off the blighters. I was hipped into a gate and landed here. Apparently I've been hipped on the Prime, of all things. Shit. While it will take them a long time to find a Cager like me, I dunno about dealing with these berks. Clueless they are, about a lot of things. They think the whole sodding multiverse revolves around them.
Although I met one cutter, a dwarf who uses a broom to fight. While not the strangest things I've seen in my days, it certainly ranks up there with the Ooze elemental that once sneezed on a Tanar'ri before a match. That was a bad time. He seemed well-lanned about this Exigo company that runs the Hills. Too bad they have a goblin infection that will probably go away as soon as the Lady decides to give up the Cage. Not sodding likely.
Arialle. I wonder if she's all right. I wonder if I'll ever see her again, if I'll be able to hold her. I doubt it. The only thing I can do is keep running, and get stronger. Strong enough to defeat Eblis, may the Lady curse his name! I'll destroy him for what he's done. I'll send him back to the Abyss for a hundred years, a thousand for his sins.
At this point, he stops writing, his rage blackening his vision and his quill snaps in half easily under his anger. He takes a few deep breaths and continues, reaching into his bag for a spare.
The rage has been getting the better of me lately. When I fight, I have to think of nothing but technique to forestall the rage from consuming me. It's only a matter of time, I suppose.
Vengeance shall be swift, it shall be vicious, and it shall be terrible.
Bernard, Prime Year 1372
He writes: It's been over a week since I fell into this place. I think I've shook off the blighters. I was hipped into a gate and landed here. Apparently I've been hipped on the Prime, of all things. Shit. While it will take them a long time to find a Cager like me, I dunno about dealing with these berks. Clueless they are, about a lot of things. They think the whole sodding multiverse revolves around them.
Although I met one cutter, a dwarf who uses a broom to fight. While not the strangest things I've seen in my days, it certainly ranks up there with the Ooze elemental that once sneezed on a Tanar'ri before a match. That was a bad time. He seemed well-lanned about this Exigo company that runs the Hills. Too bad they have a goblin infection that will probably go away as soon as the Lady decides to give up the Cage. Not sodding likely.
Arialle. I wonder if she's all right. I wonder if I'll ever see her again, if I'll be able to hold her. I doubt it. The only thing I can do is keep running, and get stronger. Strong enough to defeat Eblis, may the Lady curse his name! I'll destroy him for what he's done. I'll send him back to the Abyss for a hundred years, a thousand for his sins.
At this point, he stops writing, his rage blackening his vision and his quill snaps in half easily under his anger. He takes a few deep breaths and continues, reaching into his bag for a spare.
The rage has been getting the better of me lately. When I fight, I have to think of nothing but technique to forestall the rage from consuming me. It's only a matter of time, I suppose.
Vengeance shall be swift, it shall be vicious, and it shall be terrible.
Bernard, Prime Year 1372
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