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PostPosted: Mon Mar 7, '11, 12:15 pm
There were a lot of benefits to being a black monk, that’s for sure. All of the monsters that infested the world respected you. No longer did thieves attack me and, if they did, I could slay them in one swing with my magical staff. I felt so powerful that nothing really hurt me any more. A thief could smite me dozens of times with his morning star and I’d only feel a slight scratch. And then, BOOM, I’d fire a flame spell at him and he’d be unrecognizable as a human being. Merchants and travelers fled at the sight of me and, for the first several years, whenever the hero and his friends encountered me, they’d just as quickly run away than try to fight me.

Other black monks would occasionally run into me and tell me that the coming of Lord Terarin was nearly at hand and soon I would have everything I desired. I was at length told to go to Aereos and wait there for further instruction. I did as I was told, sailing the high seas but ultimately protected from the giant lobsters and sea snakes by my own black magic. It was after I had arrived in Aereos that I ran into the hero and his party again. It would be an encounter I’d never forget.

Something in their eyes made my blood boil with anger when I saw them. I blamed them and their quest for the misery that had led me to become a black monk. I blamed them for my decision to seek my satisfaction via a deal with the devil—or Terarin—instead of doing the right thing. For years and years I helped people and the hero, and what did I have to say for it? Nothing. Loneliness and despair.

The hero hailed me and bid me stop when he saw me.

“Dear monk, we are looking for the monument where we might find the so-called Key of Heaven. Canst thou help us?”

I don’t know what came over me at that moment, but I let out a scream and fired a blast from my staff, knocking the hero off his feet. Guy and Medi quickly came to the hero’s aid, and it was Treo, the pirate, who challenged me.

“Dark monk of the abyss, how dare you attack the savior of our fair land!” he hollered as he raised his “legendary” weapon, the Halberd of Babel, to strike at me.

I parried the weapon with no effort whatsoever and struck him in the stomach. Treo doubled forward, gasping for air. I knew that Treo was technically the weakest of the party, so I let him feel the brunt of my anger. I pressed forward, slamming the staff, the jewel at the end emitting a bright green light, repeatedly into Treo’s face. Each blow left his face, that infernal righteous look and flattop haircut that probably went out of style a few years after I came to this accursed place, bloodier and bloodier.

Guy and Medi tried to step in, but I cast a flame spell, creating an enormous wall of blue fire between them and I, so that I could beat their hapless companion to death in piece. Treo tried to run me through with the spearhead at the end of his halberd, but I caught the weapon with my hand and brought my own weapon down on his arm, snapping it like the weakest of twigs.

Treo howled in pain, drowning the cries and screams of his three companions from beyond the wall of flame. I resumed my passionate bludgeoning, smiting Treo continuously in the face until he was down on his knees, begging for mercy. I did not concede, I struck him a final time on the back of the head, producing a loud Crack. The warrior rolled over. Dead.

The wall of flame I had created wore off. The hero and the other two ran toward their fallen companion. They ignored me, focusing their attention on Treo. I heard them mutter about how he was now dead and how they’d have to get him over to Periteus so that they might get him resurrected. I saw Medi remove a feather from a leather pouch she carried. As they were about to transport themselves across continents, she gave me a funny look. It was the look of horror and shock, but, for a few brief moments, her face looked exactly like how I imagined Lacey’s face to look now.

A dark feeling came over me. For the first time, I realized what evil I had done. It finally became clear to me how much of a monster I had become. I had slain a hero, a man devoted to the cause of restoring peace to the land. For what? For companionship? Did I not have that already? Had I not had that the entire time and was simply too stubborn and ungrateful to embrace it with all of my heart? Had I put so much stock in my own vain dreams that I was blind to the good that had always been afforded me in this land?

These questions plagued my mind as I fled into the vast Kerberos Desert on the continent of Aereos. I fled until I reached a large oasis and a town called Zete. Zete was the last town to be found in the game and the most isolated one at that. It sat on the shore of a small lake in the middle of desert and was several days’ journey southwest of Tegea, the other town on the continent. I threw my staff and green cloak on the ground as I entered the city, not wanting to be identified anymore as a follower of Terarin. All I wanted to be alone. For once, I embraced the isolation that I felt in this land.
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