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Diana Astaroth Journal
The human lies dead and I am relieved. Struck down by an old friend no less, which is entirely fitting as every one who was close to him (though I use the term loosely) could see how his despicable nature called for eradication.
The rest of the party remains upset by this. They’re angry at the one who held the blade but I almost think they hate me more for finding joy in it. It confused me at first, those looks of disgust and animosity, but for the moment I remain in their group. Whether this tenuous alliance will continue after the fall of the Overwatch remains to be seen.
My lapses have been getting worse lately. When they were looking at me, I could almost hear it. His voice, approving of their distaste but not the rest, telling me that it should be fear and not anger in their gaze as they turn towards me. Telling me that they deserve punishment for this and reminding me how very well I could administer such a thing. I must thank Straad’s destruction for satiating my… No, the bloodlust. It is not mine and I need to remember that. Such an unwanted gift, but I will be returning it soon enough should I get what I need.
They looked at Straad’s victims with horror. I admit I sometimes forget that others haven’t seen what I have – haven’t experienced that which made those hundreds of mutilated corpses seem like daisies in comparison. After that I could understand more clearly their response to my amusement, but even with the reminder fresh in my mind I do not think I would have been able to hold back. The human was denied honor even at the end, and something as clean and swift as a sword through the back does not take away the impulse to laugh.
The half-orc intrigues me. Ironhide understands death and necessity far more than any of the others, and even if that wasn’t the case his apparent history as a warforged is fascinating. I don’t dare asking him about it now if ever, but he is the first I have ever come across who might understand my past. Maybe he will have an answer as to what I can be besides a remnant of wizards and slavery.
But that is a thought for another time. For now we march, heading up against those towering walls in order to pry Carter out of this shell. I know not if we will survive the experience, but if my- if he was involved in the defenses than I know better than anyone how slim our chances may be.
Shortly after episode 100: Audio Journal - available to Patreon subscribers
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