Devin had been right.
They should have stuck to the faithful, Jarlen thought groggily as he finished off yet another bottle of Sembian red.
In a sober state, the man might have been seen as attractive, with his golden blonde hair, swept back in a loose ponytail, his shocking blue eyes and soft good looks. But to anyone who viewed him that afternoon in the Nighthunt Tavern, on the edge of the Delimbyr Vale, he was just another dandified sot, slowly swilling himself into an early grave.
He warned me, he thought. Told me that as soon as I made the deal with Caeledan, our first non-believer. And now our Masked Lord has shown his punishment and harsh retribution. Soon I’ll become one with the demon, and then all will be forgiven, and I can resume my proper place.
With that he began to stand, grasping for the handle of his rapier, which although absent now, he was so accustomed to having within hand’s reach. Looking about with a befuddled look on his face, he collapsed back into the chair. As he dozed off, his thoughts turned dreamily to how it had all come to this.
(To be cont....)
A descent into madness....
Been 2 years. I think this tale has seen its end.
Sill, Evro. Nobody knows who Jarlen was anymore.
Sill, Evro. Nobody knows who Jarlen was anymore.
"You people have not given Private Pyle the proper motivation! So, from now on, when Private Pyle fucks up... I will not punish him. I will punish all of you! And the way I see it, ladies... you owe me for one jelly donut! Now, get on your faces!"
- alynnrobinso
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- Drankathar
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