The night, it's starry sky, covered in a blanket of cool blue. As I, looking upon my cold skin, am covered in a handsome midnight sheen. The armor is strapped on, the shine of it nearly blinding my eyes in the twinkle of the midnight starlight. A cool breeze blows through my hair before putting on the face that I choose to show to the world. Ah better now, so much warmer surrounded by the steel of the helm.
I hear the call of the dark tide...
Calling upon the dark father in order to follow my destiny I smite my foes before me. They squeal and scream as they are stricken by the power of my spells, helpless before me. Their loot furthers my goals and needs.
I rest, feeling the grass beneath me, even through the steel of my armor; meditating, letting my hate wash over me, calming my mind.
I hear the call of the dark tide...
Traveling the land I find others, weak, helpless, engaging in battles too big for their abilities. Fools. All the rage of all the things I can not accomplish alone fills me, from that I heal these people, or kill what they can not.
Steal another soul for the father Innoruuk, in exchange for the freedom of mine.
"Hail and thanks" they say.
"Greetings" I say. Fools. I have saved your life, it now belongs
to me.
Harvesting souls as I harvest loot, my travels continue, alone, as the moon is alone in the night sky.
I hear the call of the dark tide...
The adventures increase, I grow more powerful. Others pass by me in the night. I see them. Souls harvested to serve my needs when the time comes.
The steel grows cold against my skin. The night grows late.
I hear the call of the dark tide...
I have traveled to the ends of Norrath and back, gained nearly all I need to fulfill my destiny, as it is the fathers will. To serve him. To serve myself. Let nothing stand in my way. I need no others, only the hate that warms my cold skin from within.
I am alone, as I have been all my life. Free to serve my own will and no others.
I hear the call of the dark tide...
Alone...
My skin cold as the night itself, my being empty, hollow...
My warmth... the rage and hatred that burns my soul at how easy the goods lives are, how happy they play, how friendly the are, they find companionship, love...
I am proud to be Dark Elf, needing no others, only myself...
I hear the call of the dark tide...
I feel it begin to well up within me...
And it is warm, as it runs down my cheek...
If you would like to hear this aloud, you can hear it on rabb1t's ramblings, podcast 6, as read by the author himself, posted 2/11/11. Click the image to the right to hear the podcast, or right click to save the podcast to your system.