The deserts of the Pal'Tanir have not been kind to me. The ravaging storms, the life of sheltered crime, the corruption of those in charge... The Dominion has disappointed me one time too many. I have not touched this for a while, a book meant to keep my thoughts in check so that I don't go insane. Perhaps, I did lose my mind and I have just barely come back, at least long enough to write down my thoughts. Father... If only you could see me now you would laugh at how your career was less bloody than my own. How my life, has been nothing but a blood-soaked struggle... I was always the observing type, the bookworm, the wannabe scientist, yet today I find my eyes open to a different kind of study. The study of one's own self. Emotions and feelings had been difficult for me to understand. I very rarely felt bad for something and as often felt good about something else, yet it was nice to pretend I did. The very few times I was actually saddened or filled with joy, I felt these emotions to my very core. I studied the cases of people like me. Apparently, some kind of social disorder was the cause, one that made it hard to understand why others acted the way they did, and failing to understand why our feelings, or lack thereof, were different. I was wrong. I am not some anxiety driven girl that fails to understand others. I just don't want to. I just don't care. Father, I am a psychopath.
Time went by... This is not a flaw in today's world father, no, it is a trait. There is no shortage of monsters, wearing the skin of man, that will pay you whatever you ask for in order to get you to kill other people, a skill I inherited from you, I am sure. After our supposed success in stopping the Stormcaller, a new power rose in the Pal'Tanir. A rebellion, formed by the supposed right hand of the imposter Caliph, what I like to call "just another snake". Sadly, me and my then friends would be unlucky enough to bear witness to the start of this rebellion, them all dying in the process. I remained, helpless to stop the traitor that was responsible for their deaths... But he gave me a choice. He knew of my hatred for his enemies. My struggle to expose the imposter Caliph in exchange for my own safety. His offer was generous... For a snake. Return to the Shardscape or fight for him. There is a lot to do in these deserts and I cannot leave yet. I chose to stay and fight. The blood of his enemies was now the blood of my enemies. I wonder, how long have we been fighting the same foe? It does not matter now. Aside from the Centhiri necromancer, the voiceless, the Snake God... There is more to do. I was never in good terms with the Gods, but they have the means to an end... Something I must make my own if this existence is to be free of madness. If people like me no longer have to kill in order to survive. If I am to create a better world for those yet to come. If my dream is to come true.
The people this snake wanted me to kill were mostly unaware of what was truly behind everything. I was the muscle that tore apart their muscle. It is the one thing I am really good at. I don't remember how long it has been anymore. I don't remember how many it has been anymore. I don't remember. I used to sketch a lot. My hands now won't allow it. If they are not numb, they are shaking, making it difficult to even write these pages. I doubt I will be fighting this war for much longer. The snake is losing and I can tell, his idea of a rebellion was driven by numbers, not people. Even then, people are not to be trusted. At least, not easily. The people I pay tens to be loyal enough to uphold their end of the bargain. I have my next target.
The undead practitioner of the arcane did not appreciate my excessive use of violence. I was nice at first, but I have found diplomacy to be less effective when it comes down to getting what one wants. Perhaps when it reforms, it will be more inclined to hearing what I have to say before it simply replies with "Lightning Bolt".