I have shed blood in the fading light of my temple. I have put knee to ground, I have repented for all of my sin to come - I did it then and there, for I knew my return would only come after my final breath. The spirit’s of those before me, their bodies long since buried so near, it was as if I could feel them around me. They honored me, anointing my armor, singing the song of Vindicator’s that had been lost to the elder times.
My time since has been a maelstrom of battle, my relics ordained by shed blood and the glory of ended life. I have shattered bone, I have flayed flesh, I have opened the skulls of all who would stand against me and my new found brothers and sisters. In the absence of Easthold, I was allowed to fully give in to my haze and obliterate that which may stand against us.
Days of haze have faded to the unease of a blade that rests for too long. Soothed only by the presence of Lavender and Sarah, points of focus to keep the aggression at bay. Distractions that would have been deemed heresy in years past have since become a salvation. Here, there is no constant struggle. These people may rest their heads easy at night, and live with some ounce of security. I have found an urge in that knowledge, an urge to see that their safety remains a basic right. If I may place that upon my own shoulders, if I may take part in securing it with violence, I will have found a glorious niche.
I stood outside a meeting of nobility with my sisters and brothers. A mixture of the red and gold of Strom, and the grey and gold of Haethon. Such invigoration at seeing the numbers that may yet be mustered for mundane and mind numbing activities. We stood, Sarah, Lavender, and I, we stood as a showing of might.
We stood because sometimes it does not take a bent knee to swear your life to those you cherish.