Wyrd Tales in Port Doom

The Death of Guxes

Deprix’s Library was at hand. There are at least a dozen tomes of magic in here, this is the major breakthrough in my training that was lacking, information. In this room are but a pair of those damn monkeys. One is sized like Powder Keg, and the other the size of an ogre. The normal sized one speaks to me as if he is Deprix himself, but my superior skills can tell that this monkey is magicked and not Deprix transformed. I send Raven away, she has seen too many of her beloved pet massacred today, Magpie, the dwarf and I can handle the pair in the room with ease.

The fight goes on much longer than expected, even with the arrival of El, we are hardly putting a dent into the massive Powder Keg. We must win this fight, this room is too valuable to leave. The dwarf goes down, what was his name again? Bah, it doesn’t matter now. The creature focuses on me, and slams into me, but I resist falling to its attack. I won’t be able to deter it for long, but maybe enough where Magpie & El can finish it off. This sacrifice is worth it, they’ll slay it and put a stop to my bleedin…………..Magpie goes down……..El’s abilities are good enough to concentrate on the beast alone…….El falters……

I awaken, had Raven returned and been able to save us all? No, the place I am in, I am familiar with, but is not a place Raven could reach, let alone take me to. I have visited this place once before, when I took an oath, to follow a certain path, a vow that changed my life. I stand before the presence, and she speaks to me at a disappointing soft tone. I have failed her for the last time, my body will never be allowed to possess my soul again. I knew what failure would entail, my brashness would not let me see that I could fail. I secured the looting of the tower, as opposed to the chance to own it, this is my own fault, as we could have taken our time and not been rushed.

She intervened when my tribe tried to vilify me and slowly torture the body, a body that still had a soul. That soul didn’t last much longer than that day. My cousin’s pratering head tortured what little life I had left. I am doomed, by much my own doing. I was better than this, I should have withdrawn and lived to fight anew. Now, I won’t be fighting, this eternity won’t be hell, but I am sure I will tire of it at some point. I always do.

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