Dear Balth

Balth,

You should be receiving this letter around the time that you wake up from your coma. You fell under due to the effects of your stupid sacrifice to an Elder God, and were reduced to a state where positive energy had no effect on your body, and negative only moved you further towards the void. I attempted to operate on you with no success.

The...man bat, objected to my methods. Said I was wasting my time. I killed him. I skinned him, and sewn his skin into boots. I was so angry, I took the goblin army across the sea, laid waste to a town, and just....killed. I couldn't think for myself. I just wanted to kill. I wanted to stab people...I attracted heros, Balth, but the rage inside my head was too much. I fled, and I flead invisibly. The goblins are dead. And adventurers looted my stuff.

I....I came back to Stormguard. And you were still dead. Dead as a corpse. And I shouldn't have that. I couldn't stand the thought of you dieing. Not here. Not alone in an empty base. So I went back to Stormguard, and scrambled through a library, seeking something, anything about The Hunger that I could. It took me weeks to find an answer. But evnertraly I discovered the locaiton of one of their cutest bases, up in the mountains, near where we originally planned our hideout. Their, I met with a priest, who revealed to me the truth of Tsathoggua. ANd what he said sent shivers down my spine.

In exchange for the flesh and bone of my toe, he revealed to me that the curse you suffered from is a curse shared by all His followers. Their flesh to be devoured, and soul forfeit, Unless they can offer a hunger to fit Tsathoggua far greater than their own nourishment of their souls. Suddenly it all made sense. This is why His cultists had attempted to kidnap the common folk, and fed them to the Great Maw. They were attempting to save their own souls.

50 victims, I was told. 50 sentient, and willing victims, all sacrificed upon the same altar in the center of this lake, to the Great Hunger. But I was an outsider. Not a cultist. I was not dammed. I was told you, inside of your lifeless body, would be forced to do the sacrifices. I was not dismayed. I would make a sacrifice so big, so grand, that Tsathoggua would be bound to take notice.



I left that cave, and the plan was set in motion. The first few sacrifices were easy. We owned the fishing village, after all, and it was a pittance to lead families away from their boats, bind and gag them, and sacrifice them in your name upon the alter. I also sacrifices a number of the few surviving goblins. It felt like it was going to be easy. At first. However, after the first dozen or so people disappeared, the townsfolk began to take notice. Money kept the witnesses silent for the first few killings, but eventually I was forced to call upon some old contacts and employ....cleaning costs, to neutralize anyone who threatened to report me to the authorities. And it worked. For a while

By Victim 20 (A young girl, no more than 8, who was the last in her family to be murdered in your name) the guard had taken notice. The fishing village was quarte needed, and rumors of a serial killer began to spread. People locked their doors. People did not leave their houses. While my face had not yet been recognised, my cleaning crew was unable to silence all the witnesses of my kidnappings. And so I left our village, and moved to the bigger city to continue my crime spree.



When I arrived in Stormguard, I rented a room at the Cat and Dragon, and ordered the finest food, the finest accommodations, just as I had done my first time in Stormguard. And yet....it was different this time

Balith, when I first came to Stormguard, I had but one thought on my mind. Killing my sister Tara. And while that still burns, it is on the backburner in my mind. Tara has naught to show her face the entire time I’ve been active. I’ve....I’ve grown lonely. Without purpose. Violence for violence's sake...not to accomplish something...but as a release. A release of stress, built up from all the killing. And while vol was able to satisfy me for a while...he is only a dwarf. A vampire, but still too, short, for my tastes. I desired a real man. I man who would serve as my dark champion, and spread Lunamoon across the bed as well as the stars. And as I made myself tired, I vowed that this was to be the last month that the Great Lunamoon would be without a champion to serve her desires.



Stormguard was much bigger then the fishing town, and as a result 21 through 45 were mostly the same....wooing various men for about a few days at a time, before offering them a date, long walks on the beach, canoeing under the sunset, some BDSM on a “haunted island.” They all fell for my charm. ANd each of them died in the same way, with fear in their eyes, and their soul ment to feed your return. Victim 46, I actually caught a lucky break...he, along with eight of his friends, were actually planning a visit to the “haunted island where the serial killer watches” Fresh, muscled men, all off on “spring break” to a closed campsite. A single waggle of my breasts, was all it took for them to ask me to come along. And oh! Was a joyous few days it was! They camped close enough to the altar that all it took was a machete and an old sports mask to kill them, one by one inside the campsite. Oh, i wish you were their balth! It was the most fun I’ve had since I killed that Winters fellow, and got his head on a pike. 54 souls sacrificed, 46 to go.

But at this point, it was tough going. The more bodies that piled up, the more the town scrambled. The more people came in fear. The 60th kill was sloppy, and a servant saw my face before I could kill him. The 62nd kill was tiring...and a cut allowed the guard to track me to an alleyway. I escaped, but soon my face was public knowledge. This...complicated things. With my face being tied to that of a serial killer, my life began to fall apart. My businesses were seized. My contacts refused to deal with me. And disguises and magic were required to move around the city. Things were not ideal. But I still had people to kill. Luring them out to the island was no longer an option, as the town guard had that place quarantined. However, an alter was an altar...and Alexander had not taught me the ways of the Ur-priest for nothing. For a small pittance, I purchased a blank, portable altar, and with help from the cultists in the mountains, desecrated and purified it to Tsathoggua. With the help of some weight-reducing magic, I strapped the altar to my back, and took up a mask. Trixie Lulamoon may be haunted, but the Angel Which was eternal!

Kills 63-70 took about a week, and followed a similar formula to my first, through bribing, coercing, or seduction, I brought various men into alleyways, and murdered them. 71 was a memorable one..a swooning pirate who kept trying to get into my pants. I pretended to fall for his charms, and, once we were alone, had him remove his leathers and cutlass. And right before he had his way with me, a simple Inflict Serious, right to his potential children, was all that was necessary to fry the man's life force, as my portable altar absorbed yet another soul.

As I killed the women who provided number 72, I was ambushed by none other than Harlech, commander of Storm Guards Dragoons. Rather than offer a fair fight, his men showered my unarmed body with crossbow bolts just as I was finishing up with 72. Only the quick words of a Sanctuary spell were enough to save me from the onslaught. As his men tried to breach my spell, Harlech taunted me. It was 12 on one. He demanded my surrender. I equipped my plate. He demanded I explain what I had done to my victims. I cast protective wards. He threatened to expose me to my friends and family. I responded thusly. “You taunt my officer. I have no family beyond my rival. I have no friends aside from the dead. And you will fuel his return! With a snap of my fingers, magical energy muddled Harlech mind, as the Sanctuary spell was dispelled.



It was a hard fight. 11 veteran soldiers, vs little old me. My pike was too long for such a cramped space, and so I fought with my dagger. But the soldiers fought harder. One of them smashed me in the left knee, and another brought his pike in through my back. But, through effort, I caused one of them to fall. And then the battle was won. “Rise! I called upon the dead solder.” “Rise and serve your new master!” And in the blink of an eye, to the horror of their soldiers, their very own comrade rose from the grave, animated by the negative energy I controlled,, and began to watch my back, over his. As more fell, the tide began to turn against them. Every soldier that fell, bolstered my makeshift army. As my zombies fell, more took their place. Even still, it was a long battle. My energies were spent not on healing my own injuries, but on bolstering my troops. A blow to the head from one of the two remaining troops knocked me prone. In desperation, I walked over to Harlech, still struggling against the mind-altering enchantment. In a moment of passion, I kissed the solder, and dug my fangs deep into his mouth, sucking all good life. I could. Thanks to my spell, he hardly resisted, and his death became 73.



74-85 became increasingly harder. Each became as meritorious as a planned heist, taking almost a week each. The city was on to me now. 24/7 patrols around the city. Nobody thought they were safe from Trixie. And they were right. Still, some good came from this murder spree. The name Trixie Lulamoon was known to all in the city. The bounty for my arrest climbed higher and higher, at first, a simple, 10,000 gold, than 15,000, and 20,000, all the way up to 50,000 gold. Fifty Thousand gold? Dead or alive! I felt so...empowered. I felt alive! Never in my life, baith, did I feel so...valuable. So impactful in the lives of those in the city...to be worth more than an entire city blocks worth of real estate! Still, as much as I wished to give myself a job well done, I had a job to do.

Kill 90, an old dog walker working his last pennies before retirement, was the last kill I would do inside the city. Too risky. 91 was the daughter of said dogwalker, too weak to not fall to my charms like her father. 92 and 93 were a warrior and a wizard, respectively, both argueing about the effectiveness of maces against creatures with thick hides. They learned the effectiveness of a mace, allright, against their own skulls. 94 was a young, hopefully barbarian named Dave, who seemed all to helpful to “help” a maiden in need. His reward? Neck snapped between my legs. 95 was a beggar whom I befriended through gifts of food and water, and whose corpse made a fine sleeping bag. 96 was an oddity, a elven mage riding a dinosaur. We spoke for a while....he was coming to Stormguard to kill the serial killer who had been plaguing the streets for the last year. He claimed to even have a poster! I asked to see it. When he unrolled the paper, studied the face upon it, and turned back to me, the face on the elf, as it turned from confusion, to familiarity, to horror, was priceless. 97 was a traveling merchant who said he sold “adventuring gear” He was true to his word....I even found a set of clothing, as well as a new set of Plate among his ruined wagon. 98 and 99, were a pair of children, named Nick and Cody. Both seemed to be quite the ill-behaved boys, but, alas, neither learned their lesson about taking candy from strangers. Easy fight.



For kill 100, however. It had to be perfect. Tsathoggua had not noticed me at 50, and I was determined to make him notice my grand offering. So I was determined to make it perfect. To my luck, around this time, I heard notice that their was royalty passing through Stormguard.A queen, defended by her most noble of bodyguards. The queen was a noble sort, but celebrity gossip pegged her as a self-centered ruler, with her, almost robotic, bodyguard, standing vigil, 24/7, with a tower shield and an attack best named Benny. This queen. This was the one I wanted.

I first made contact with her before they even got near stormguard. Posing as a harmless adventurer, I “stumbled” into their campsite, and, after being questioned, admitted to being a simple clerical adventure, out to make a name for myself. While the queen's bodyguard did not fall for my story, I appeared to push the right buttons for the queen, for she herself seemed to take an interest in my plight. Against the advance of her bodyguard (whom I picked up that she did not trust much) she began to question me. Who was I, so far outside Stormguard? Who was my sponsor? What race was I?

And I tell you Baith, she was ruthless in her questions. She was as inquisitive as a witch hunter, and as bright as an archmage. But two can play at that game. For hours, I verbally fought for my life...inventing the personally of Mary Twilight, a young asimilar who had lost her way, and was looking to redeem herself. While she did not swallow it, hook and all, at first, over the next few days, I joined up with the royal caravan, (I was a local, and headed the same way, after all) and began to work my charms upon the queen, who seemed to have a soft spot for adventurers. Her bodyguard, however, seemed to distrust my attempts to seduce the queen, however, and gave me quite a watchful eye as we traveled together, and I grew closer, and closer to the queen. But as my grip was ready to tighten around her neck, He struck.

It was in the middle of the night. I had placed my yet next to the royal one, and awoke to the sound of heavy footsteps. Sensing danger, I cast a Silence spell, enveloping the area around my tent. This was followed by the silent smashing of my tent and bedroom by the massive bastard sword of the queen's royal bodyguard. I readied to blade, ready to fend off this attacker, but I was caught off guard when a boar, seemingly the size of a house, charged my left, and knocked me prone. The massive bodyguard called out for backup, but seemed to realize my silence spell. With anger in his eyes, he pulled out a shield, almost as big as himself, made of wood, and advanced towards me. On the exterior of the shield, in various languages, I read a message. “Fuck Wizards” it said. A threat, intended at me. My heart skipped a beat. This was a magehunter, desired to counter mages, and disrupt spells.

I took my pike in both hands, and braced it against the pig that charged at me, it’s loud squeals as it impales itself upon my pike drowned out by the silence spell. With another stab of my pike, the boar was killed, however, this left me open for the magehunter to advance towards me, and slice at my neck with his sword. My reflexes are good, but not that good. The magehunter knocked off my hat, quite a bit of my hair, as a good portion of the skin above my scalp. In return, I slammed my leg into his groin, but was surprised to find grinding gear where I expected to find testicular weaknesses. The magehunter grabbed a hold of my leg from his groin, and pulled me over his head with his shield arm, slamming me into the ground atop his shield, which pressed down on me. I pushed back, and saw the inscription upon it. “Fuck Wizards.” At first, I felt fear...but as I stared at it, I realized something. This wasn’t a threat. This was a weakness.

The mage hunter crushed me beneath his shield, but when he retracted his shield arm, I rolled out of the silence spell. I knew I only had time to pick a single spell, I had only a few seconds before the magehunter crossed the silence spell, and woke the camp. I scoured my memory. Until finally, I spent a Hero Point.

“Imperium Construere!” I called out, as jade lightning shot out of my hand, and wrapped around the metal man as he broke the silence spell. He blocked some of the spell with his shield, but other bolts of lightning struck him, moving his gears against his will. “You bitch!” he called out at me. That was definitely going to wake the camp. Undeterred, I continued. “You have no power hear wizard!” I called out, loud enough for the camp to hear me. “Your control over this bodyguard ends now!” With a wave of my other hand, the mechanical bodyguard was forced to respond against his will “Curse you, Trixie!” he was forced to say “I almost got close enough to assassinate the queen until you stopped me!” By now, the camp was wide awake “Leave here!” I commanded the construct, in a loud voice “And never return to harm this queen again!”

With his legs under my control, I commanded him to run along the road to the east. And he would continue running, until either the spell ran out, or until he was many dozens of miles from us. The queen ran over to me, and smiled. I smiled too, albeit for a different reason. The next morning, their was to be a festival, in thanks for me uncovering the assassination. The queen offered me any favor I desired. I responded that I wanted something humble, a simple day of mountain climbing, with the two of us. Her guards objected, but she silenced them.



As we climbed up the mountains, and I helped her reach the cave I moved towards, I almost felt sorry for the queen. She reminded me of myself, almost, with a facade of beauty, with the brush of tyranny. Still, she had a different purpose to serve...as once I helped her up the final ledge, that purpose was made clear.

The thing about mountain climbing is that it's hard work. Work that cannot be done when enhanced in armor, or draped in magical trinkets, with scrolls and potions as your side. It’s something you need a trusting partner for. And it’s also an activity where cables and chains are readily available.

With the queen tied up, the cultists lead me to a large open chamber. This was the Great Pit...where Tsathoggua connection to the mortal word is strongest. And it is where i began my preparations.

I made sure my last sacrifice would not go unnoticed. I striped her down to nothing. I commanded cultists to have their way with her, and tourchered her for hours, prior to the ceremony. I branded her with the symbol of the Great Hunter. And we waited. The cultists and I chanted:

Wy wzilv vorpyv vorv vilqyrafw kyoary zmy kdaavh ouydvw ao muwzarh; dyjauv ao vaqpi – kfz ryivh za tirjy, za vyoh zmy zrilwuylz: ryivh za wzik oarzm suzm afr eylyzrizujy sudd, szriul yjyrh dyiwm, rfl hyddulq vasl zmy paflziulwuvy ao mil: ryivh corv suddula za uppadizy sardv feal sardv wu zm afr wz fl ulq dixy. l l alv dyz smyp idd wilq zmia pyt myry myry, iw miarę l l apalq zmy oiudulq weytuylw tiddyv mil. ofr kyula zaac oarp ul guilty ta zilv kyary hafr cuddulq qi xy. l l alv las sy ziyad orap bodipy aza bodipy l l alv zz r orap zmy sudd za zm qadri! l l agios a Tsathoggua ! agios a Tsathoggua!



We stand armed and dangerous before the bloody fields of history; Devoid of dogma – but ready to carve, to defy the transient: Ready to stab forth with our penetrative will, Strain every leash, run yelling down the mountainside of Man: Ready and willing to immolate world upon world With our stunning blaze. And let them all sing that WE were here, as Masters Among the failing specimens called Man. Our being took form in defiance To stand before your killing gaze. And now we travel from flame to flame And tower from the will to the glory! Agios O Tsathoggua! Agios O Tsathoggua!

What happened next was a flurry of action.I saw a mount...larger than any had ever seen before. And...it consumed them. The souls I had fed it...it ate them as a child consumes it’s favored soup. And I saw you, Balth, trapped inside of it’s mouth. Chewed up, and discarded...but still in once piece. And while the beast was distracted, I reached inside, and cut the boils on it’s mouth that bound your soul to its Eternal Hunger. I dare not think how long the souls kept him busy...but I do know I am happy to have sacrificed 100 over 50, because as he was finished, the massive, eldritch jaws slammed back down just as I pulled you from it’s maw.

When I awoke, the cultists around me were all dead. But you were alive. And unconscious. Hurrying down the mountain, I moved you back to the old base, and tucked you into bed, right where you died. Dramatic effect, you know.

I wasn’t originally going to write this letter, mind you. I was just going to slap you awake, and laugh at you for sleeping on the job. But, it’s not that I can't do that, but I don’t want to do that to you. All throughout our time together, you’ve been the only one to consistently stay with me. You’ve done my bidding, and willingly worked for my schemes. You’ve.....you’ve been the only one who, really cared what I had planned...from slipping goblin blood, to robbing a caravan...unlike that Lycan and his guns.

I guess what i'm trying to say is pretty simple. But it's taken me over a year to say it. I almost lost you, Balth. I spent over a year of my life trying to fix that. You died because of my actions and.....and, I don’t know how I can forgive myself for that.

I love you Balith. You're the only one who’s been there for me. Who’s stood by me this whole time. Who’s stayed sane through this whole endeavor. I’m sorry for threatening to rip your dick off...but, it was the only way at the time I could think of. I didn’t want to ruin my reputation as a warlord. I can't show weakness, around the goblins, or anyone else. I cannot show anything but anger.

And, in some part of me, I regret that. I’m sorry for how I treated you. I love you balth. You fill my heart with such joy that it makes me want to murder an entire city with you! I....I don’t know what else to say. I’ve...I’ve never been good with words, but I...I wrote a poem. For you. I call it “The Devil Hides Behind His Smile



I come home, and he’s there waiting So sweet and tender honest kind

Dim lighting, candles burning That man must have something to hide

He's a bit too nice this evening Suspicion makes me a bit vile

I'll skin him before morning And find out what's behind that smile

It's nothing - It must be all in my head

I think the devil is hiding behind his smile Darkness disguised as the morning light

What's there behind the closed door? Imaginations spinning hard She's hiding something hardcore No biggie, I'll rip his clothes apart!

Blood drips down from the ceiling He’s spread bodies like modern art How can I hear him calling? "Come down dear, dinner's gonna start!"







As for the future? I don’t know Balith. I don’t know how you're going to respond to me. How your going to react to...all this. All what happened. Do you still hate me for what’s happened? I’m sorry. I love you...but I cannot control your mind. And since I cannot bear the thought of rejection, I’m moving far away, to a city called Metro City, crown jewel of the Respire Kingdom. Please...don’t follow me. I can't bear the thought of your being angry at me. Just know...I love you, my dear devil. Besides, I have a solution. We’re both dammed, are we not. I’ll meet you at the bar in hell. We’ll kill some angels together.



Trixie Twilly Lunamoon

PS: If you tell ANYONE about this letter. I will find you. And hunt you down. And twist your balls so far around they'll come off. Because I know that's the way you like it :)