I want to find who killed me. I can't reconnect my lives unless I know who killed me, and more importantly, WHY I was killed.
But where do I start? It's been some months now since I was awoken and entered the Service of the Forsaken, and in that intervening time, so much has changed. The only thing that hasn't changed is my anger at…whoever is responsible for this. Like a million bees inside me, angry bees, ready to lash out with wings and stingers at any passerby who disturbs their hive.
I have stingers as well, but mine are considerably larger, and covered in the poisonous bile of my own wretched fury.
I am at a loss for where to begin asking, my fellow forsaken seem to think that searching out things like this is a fools errand. I beg tot differ, sometimes at knifepoint. I will find who committed this crime upon me, and then, we will have a conversation.
Perhaps I should find out who it was who sent me the rope and the shell-horn. They seemed to know something, perhaps they could be encouraged to speak with me at greater length. The letter was unsigned, but perhaps the postal services are a good place to begin asking. After all, how often are the messengers asked to carry wet red nooses?
Yes. It is a beginning. I will find this person, and then they will tell me everything.
But where do I start? It's been some months now since I was awoken and entered the Service of the Forsaken, and in that intervening time, so much has changed. The only thing that hasn't changed is my anger at…whoever is responsible for this. Like a million bees inside me, angry bees, ready to lash out with wings and stingers at any passerby who disturbs their hive.
I have stingers as well, but mine are considerably larger, and covered in the poisonous bile of my own wretched fury.
I am at a loss for where to begin asking, my fellow forsaken seem to think that searching out things like this is a fools errand. I beg tot differ, sometimes at knifepoint. I will find who committed this crime upon me, and then, we will have a conversation.
Perhaps I should find out who it was who sent me the rope and the shell-horn. They seemed to know something, perhaps they could be encouraged to speak with me at greater length. The letter was unsigned, but perhaps the postal services are a good place to begin asking. After all, how often are the messengers asked to carry wet red nooses?
Yes. It is a beginning. I will find this person, and then they will tell me everything.
