23,414
editsAd placeholder
Memoirs of My Death: Difference between revisions
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
no edit summary
(author added) |
No edit summary |
||
| Line 7: | Line 7: | ||
| quote = This book is redolent with the enticing smell of paper and ink. | | quote = This book is redolent with the enticing smell of paper and ink. | ||
| book author = Sarevok Anchev | | book author = Sarevok Anchev | ||
| book text = [This is a memoir describing in detail the visions of Bhaal seen by Sarevok Anchev after his death in the Bhaal Temple, centuries ago.] | | book text = [This is a memoir describing in detail the visions of [[Bhaal]] seen by Sarevok Anchev after his death in the Bhaal Temple, centuries ago.] | ||
The brethren often ask me: what was it like to die? They expect me to present a warring conflict: the humiliation of defeat against the honour of sacrifice. But once dead, it is impossible to think of oneself, of life, for you are in Bhaal's own embrace. | The brethren often ask me: what was it like to die? They expect me to present a warring conflict: the humiliation of defeat against the honour of sacrifice. But once dead, it is impossible to think of oneself, of life, for you are in Bhaal's own embrace. | ||
Bhaal's domain is a red waste land(sic) in a starless sky, halted in time before the collapse of the final sun. There I wandered, tasting the end of all things. I was dragged back from the precipice, bound to a living husk again by my mocking sibling. I resented it at first. I had forgotten how to breathe, to eat, all the animal functions of the petty who cling to life. But when I was cruelly resurrected, my faith was bolstered more through my death that it could be through life. I would bring about Bhaal's perfect finale. The melting of the crimson sun above the lakes of blood. It will happen. This world will be carved in his image. | Bhaal's domain is a red waste land(sic) in a starless sky, halted in time before the collapse of the final sun. There I wandered, tasting the end of all things. I was dragged back from the precipice, bound to a living husk again by my mocking sibling. I resented it at first. I had forgotten how to breathe, to eat, all the animal functions of the petty who cling to life. But when I was cruelly resurrected, my faith was bolstered more through my death that it could be through life. I would bring about Bhaal's perfect finale. The melting of the crimson sun above the lakes of blood. It will happen. This world will be carved in his image. | ||