"They're dead." Valrym had sat me down, I had made Rosettia in a fairly fast time and was inquiring after where my wayward companions had got off to, to find out that they had both been killed. Its a bit shocking, even for someone who deals in death all the time, who kills people for very minor things, finding out my friends (and someone who I was developing a bit of love for) were dead. It shocks me less now, but it still hurts when someone I knew personally and didn't want to kill (so not you Morley, though you continue to live as a matter of incovenience to me) dies.
They didn't even die honorably or heroically. Lorissia had her throat slit while she was sleeping (she's always been kind of a deep sleeper), Malcyr had his food poisoned and died at a healer unable to stop his insides from turning to mush. This was retribution for the bandits they had dealt with earlier (thank whatever dark god for it not being something I did). Malcyr's body was shipped off to Ronerawth to be dealt with in some weird military custom. Lorissia was originally buried in a poor persons pit, but I paid money to have her moved to outside her original Fire God Temple. I planted some strangle flowers on her grave and to this day make sure they are properly trimmed. I also have a small inscription of "Gone But Not Forgotten", and she hasn't been to this day.
After I took care of the burial stuff I kind of drifted away. I didn't exact my revenge on the bandits, there wasn't a point life would take care of them eventually. I didn't go on a crusade to stamp out evil, I just kind of withdrew. I spent my time initially seeking out Valrya's old store houses to try and find out if she found a way to bring back the dead (ok so I didn't handle losing both my friends very well) after that failed I just spent my time in a cave waiting to die I guess. I ate minimally because I didn't want to die of starvation, but the hurt was too much. I figured it was best to die alone, having not inflicted myself on others, I would leave my cave from time to time for simple errands, I went back to Duvein and helped people read and write letters still, though thankfully reading and writing had become more popular since I last visited so over time they needed me less and less (much like everyone else).
I grew a pretty long beard as well, it turned grey naturally and I didn't bother to shave it. Somewhere along the way I also lost my hair, I don't know if that was age/magic, or just because I shaved it so much it gave up. And so it was that a hundred years passed by and the world forgot Trezlan Lorentino (not that it really knew me to begin with). I'll go over the events that I missed next entry, I feel a bit drained writing about the death of my friends, I mean its been a long time since they died, but I'm still kind of hit by it, its like an old injury that just when you forget about it, the rains hit in just a way that the joints ache from the memory.
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