(( This is happening about four months after this story here: https://laurelinarchives.org/node/66594 ))
In a small tavern in Cardolan in Herne to be exact, a weird figure appears, wearing all gold and black outfit with a golden scythe, you can clearly tell he's searching for someone, or something.
But finally his luck reached him, the elf of whom Deorla spoke and described was here. He approached her, trying not to scare her away, as many for some reason do cowar in fear when he approaches them, maybe it's due to his massive height, who knows. He greets her with his name and just tosses a letter towards the table she was sitting at
- Letter from Deorla
That's all he says, and just leaves. He does not want to cause any scenes, and unnecessary bloodshed, and now after his task is completed, he can go back to his homeland.
Message is sealed with a wax with a logo of Company of the East Road
Dear Naridalis
I wonder is it better to be born good, or to overcome one's evils, through great effort. Would they see you any different? There are sayings that conflict their own meaning; such as everyone is born good. Then why are there monsters? Why we shaped by the destinies laid upon us? Are you telling me no monster can be born, only gods tainted by that which is laid before them? If that is to be true, do we let monsters atone? Is it right to, or should they be forced to. Should they be forced to live their lives atoning for the actions they had. What if they wish not to, what if they wish to be monsters? Should we, should we purge them? There are the questions I asked myself, it led me to belief that I could not be what I was. For I had done wrong I too had been a monster, but Company saw good in me, they took me in, they let me partake in their adventures and thought that I saw the good in people, and the bad too. But I dictated my own rights, my own beliefs. I know you may not look down on me still, even after all this time and chaos. But if you still do, know that you're right. No human is born good, no human is born evil, we are blank canvas, and what is written upon us is written by what we choose. What we see. Sometimes our canvas can be written but with little ink, or blood. But it is still us who writes it. Thank you. Now I think it's time I start living. If you still wish to, you and Company may still serve me, before I claim what is mine.
