I have danced on the edge of Death’s knife so long that confronting my mortality has become commonplace. But this time it’s different. I almost died today, twice, from what my companions tell me. Goblins. Sinspawn. Quasits. Questing with these Pathfinders has put me face-to-face with the horrors my parents would tell stories about to make Arim and me behave. Working with the Thief Lord was easier. Humans and the like are easy to predict, easy to control, easy to kill. Evil goddesses and Abyssal creatures are beyond my ken, much as I despise admitting it.
Today started out off-kilter, if that makes any sense. Bethana found the cat because Ameiko had gone missing sometime in the night. A note was left behind with some clues that started to fill in the blanks in the information we had been gathering around town. It seems that her half-brother is around and has a vendetta against Kaijistu and the entire town for whatever wrong has been done to him. I can understand his feelings towards his…step-father? I guess that’s what Kaijistu would be. But this hate for the town is irrational. There are many innocents he would condemn for the crimes of a few. Tsudo (the brother) has been delving into dark powers beyond his control and has some sort of love-fixation on Nualia, who is appparently alive (called it!). My guess is that Nualia is the one who actually summoned the quasit we tangled with later in the day. But I’m getting ahead of myself. The note Ameiko left behind pointed to the glassworks, so off we went post-haste.
Death is never pretty, but the death we found there was particularly gruesome. We found goblins playing with the bodies of the dead glassworks they killed before we got there. Kaijistu was already dead and encased in glass. His was positioned so he was sitting on a chair in the glass, a mockery of his noble status I’m sure. Not sure how the goblins would have managed such a display (they aren’t known for finesse), so I’m guessing that’s Tsudo’s work. He really must have hated Kaijistu. The fight with these goblins was my first brush with Death. From what the others told me, I was hit hard and nearly bled out on the floor. “What about Suzy?” you might ask. “She can heal!” Yes, she can, but only if she is there. The damn cleric was doing her sunshine and flowers morning ritual and MISSED THE WHOLE FIGHT. Her one use and she WASN'T EVEN THERE! The damn orc had to fucking stabilize me. After the fight, as I was recovering, the orc man and the half-elf found Ameiko somewhere below the glassworks. Her brother’s betrayal and her father’s death were two mighty blows I think it will take her some time to recover from. Luckily, her brother had shared with her some useful information about his plans. Tsudo appeared at one point too, but my mind is a little fuzzy about when that was. Regardless, he was able to run and lose the half-elf in the tunnels below the glassworks. Fucking bastard ran away like the PUSSY-ASS PANSY HE IS. Sorry, getting carried away.
After the group was finally back together (with me healed back up) and local law enforcement had gotten control of the glassworks and Ameiko, we started exploring the tunnels Tsudo ran into. Lots of rooms and dead-ends, but there were a few things of note. First, it seems that Lamashtu has a following down here. This is not a goddess I had heard of before, but Suzy said that she is akin to chaos and evil. So, evil goddess in a secret place of worship underground. Yeah, this will end well. There was a prison and torture chamber, for saving people I’m sure. All through our journey down here, Suzy seemed to get more and more un-sunshine-y. She even cursed when we found the altar. I didn’t think she was physically capable. The other noteworthy finds were the sinspawn and quasit. The sinspawn were not a welcome sight and the first real sign that something dark is going on down there. The quasit was in attendance in a cathedral—I can only assume for Lamashtu—behind a cold door. I was not in my right mind around the quasit, and so was vulnerable to her attacks. Hence the second close brush with death.
Being so close to death in this way changes a person. Dying at the hands of humanoids is a risk we all face. Dying at the hands of the creatures from my nightmares is 100 times worse. I’m not yet ready to meet my brother and parents, and I doubt I would end up in the same place anyway. I have not lived the life of a saint, but I did what I had to survive. I wouldn’t call myself evil. I do have boundaries. Men and women always get a quick, clean death at my hands; I don’t play with my kills. Children are untouchable. I’m not a monster. But where would I go should I die? I feel like I’m at the brink of a crisis of faith, but I don’t have much faith to begin with. It’s a crisis of something.
I’m sure I could talk to the orc man or Suzy, but my close association with them makes me hesitate to approach. I want a discussion, not a conversion. It’s hard to find time to slip away on my own, but I may try and visit the priest at the cathedral. He’s a neutral third party and much more approachable than my colleagues. Perhaps he can answer my questions on the afterlife and introduce me to some of the theology surrounding the more benevolent gods.
I’m not growing soft. I’m hedging my bets.
