Further Warning

My previous writings on ego hold firm, I write this not to disregard my previous statement, but to amend, and to share a deeper light on the dangers of man. To be a bloodhunter is to shed yourself of your humanity, you must cast away your previous wants and desires for a greater task. You will never serve a lord, you will never find yourself surrounded by wealth, and you will never grow old. Our future is to fight and die far from our homes, far from the embrace of the people we fight for. The blood is not just to enhance our fighting prowess. We did not taint our bodies only for the purpose of physical gain, but also as a reminder. It is a reminder that we, and every bloodhunter, have willingly set upon ourselves a clock that continues to tick no matter how hard we fight. Rejection of the blood is fatal. Retired hunters have stirred in their fortresses, searching tome after tome trying to reverse the damage they've done to their bodies, and every attempt of reversal has been lethal. I remind you of this because destiny will dangle your humanity in front of your eyes, just out of reach, begging you to try and grasp for it. The human inside will scream at you to let it out. You will want to stick out your hand, you will want to grab onto what you remember of a peaceful time, but these are all delusions. The gods spit at us with every waking moment and in your dreams they spit some more. Each desire you have is more dangerous than the last. We can never become human again, and we cannot afford to play games of pretend. Do not allow human thoughts and desires to infect your tainted heart. Do not welcome desire to rest and retire. Do not welcome the thoughts of a wife you could have had, the husband you never got to marry, or the children you'll never get to raise. These desires will slow you down, they will cause hesitation in the time of strife, and they will ruin you. You gave up your humanity so that others could fulfill those same desires, every village you save, every creature you kill, and every job you complete all leads back to allowing someone else to retire, to marry, or to raise children.
 
I bear the identity of an exile. You may know about me, or you may not, but I write my warnings with experience. Hate me, disregard me, or disparage me for my title if you must, but what you are reading is nothing less than the truth. Upon my banishment, my daughter was raised on the false pretenses of my manufactured betrayal, raised by a man who has let his still-beating humanity infect and corrode his faculties. No one will read this journal while I live and breathe, and so I assure you that without any personal gain or vendetta, that I am innocent of every charge laid upon me by the Burning Fang. Conflict within one of our orders is not a human problem. It is the only time we can and should be involved in playing petty games of bureaucracy. I will never redeem myself in the eyes of the order, nor will my daughter forgive me for what I am, but i cannot sit idly by as the order i was brought into is eaten from the inside by a gluttonous pig who knows not when to stop feasting. Do not be disgusted by fighting your kin. Do not be disgusted by ridding your order of the blight that infects it. It is, arguably, your most sacred duty to save the life of your kin. Without blood hunters, we consign the world to oblivion.