We Hunt.

They speak of the Shadowfell as though it were a monster, something all consuming that cares only for itself, then how am I here?

I breathe, I speak, I feel, because of the fell. It was shadow that tended to me, that held me, that remade me. It’s light that seeks to smother and suffocate, oh how it suffocates. Never have I felt less like myself, less of a person even than when I was being shunned and scorned.

This “Path of Light” speaks of knowing best, of caring for the masses. They care only for their bottom line.

Control.

Nothing speaks more to this than Bastien, that smirk, that smile, that look in his eye, like a wild animal on the hunt. But he’s more dangerous, because he’s a wild animal with intelligence. He gains thrill in the chase, but I don’t tire so easily. I won’t be run down, I’m the one hunting this time.

Knowing what I know now, I crave for shadow, for its embrace and protection. At least when it whispers it lets me respond in my own voice.

My own voice… The basement will be drenched in the fell, I know another voice that needs to be free, a voice I’d like to hear for myself. Once I know we’re going to head down, I’ll call for Clerica.