To Ashes, To Dust
Three had taken us to a local bar for some drinks. The information he dropped on us after that...well let's just say it wasn't encouraging.
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After a long and harrowing case a simple delivery is exactly what we needed. And I heard the train has a nice bar car too...
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A simple mission: find and return a scroll to a councilman. A city-block-sized fire, a showdown with a dead man, a horrifying art expo, and a looming gang war later and here we are - ready to finally turn that scroll in...to the mob. This can only end well.
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Drugs, gang wars, weapons of mass destruction. What is this city coming to? Someone needs to step up and do something before this city tears itself apart. I don't know if that person is me, or Witz, or even the two of us together, but it's becoming increasingly clear that no one else is going to lift a finger to do the right thing, so I think we have to try. I hope we're not getting in over our heads.
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I've seen some horrible, twisted shit in my day. The memories of my time in the war haunt me to this day, and there have been times in my career as an investigator that would give anything I saw in the war a run for its money. But what we were about to walk in to...there was no preparation for that horror.
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I cannot express in words (to be fair, often the case with me) how glad I was that we were finally going to be done chasing this scroll all around town. We had a solid lead and it should have been a quick in-and-out job. Nothing could have prepared me for who, or rather, for what, I was going to run into that day.
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Back in those days I ran with a crew. The war demanded it and the profits were too much to pass up. Never thought I'd meet a partner there, let alone a warforged built for destruction.
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I'm....alive? It's all a blur. One minute I'm floating along in peace and tranquility, the next I'm opening my eyes for the first time in who knows how long. But that's not all. I've forgotten everything. No memories. Hell, I don't even know my own name. I don't know why I'm here, or why I was brought back. In the meantime, I'm going to go along with this crazy changeling, Witz? I think he said his name was? Maybe I'll learn something useful.
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Suppose I never had much use for talking about my past, but that was before my past started catching up to me like some gruesome specter. The truth of the matter is nobody really cares about your past – I don’t want to tell ya and you don’t want to listen. We’re all creatures of the moment. But what happened that day bears telling. It all started with a warforged I was attempting to…rescue.
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1/31/2021
info_outline1/31/2021