At last, it is done. In a night full of murder and death, we ripped the heads of the garrison free and left the soldiers broken and dying through the ruined remains of the keep. My associates and I left a trail of carnage behind us as we killed the Watch Commander, the Magister, and the Cleric of Mitra all in one night after the performance by a travelling troupe and poisoning the stew that was brought to feed the garrison. With our deeds, we brought low more than half of the soldiers garrisoned there and eliminated any and all resistance that could have stopped the bugbear assault.
Yet as the screams of the village escape out into the night air, crying for a salvation that will not come, I realize that my vengeance has come full circle. I have brought down the captains that had me imprisoned for protecting my life, I destroyed their wall with the aid and expertise of my comrades, and the bugbears barely suffered any casualties before their slaughter began. As I watch the town burn, I wonder what is it exactly that I am becoming. Am I truly capable of such heinous acts? What else am I willing to do in order to gain the power that Adrastus has promised me?
The smoke stings my eyes as a wind begins to blow and towns further off in the darkness begin to burn under Fireaxe’s marauding horde. All I feel is a sense of grim satisfaction. Perhaps I have found my true calling, not as a soldier to Talingarde but as a soldier of Asmodeus. Here, nestled in the warm embrace of Hell itself, is where I belong. With my vengeance satisfied, my ambition grows greedier and hungrier. This kingdom will fear my name, it will know of the monster it helped create.