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A Tombkeeper's Diary | "The Time I Drowned"


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A Tombkeeper's Diary

"The Time I Drowned"

[Music]

 

       Beneath a trickling underground stream, cold mineral rich water pours entropy over top Angr's head. The chaotic pitter patter screaming out into the cavern's silent expanse as the dwarf's naked body is soaked in liquid solitude. Though strange, Angr had routinely done this, seeking to quell his indomitable spirit which often thrashed with a primal rage. He hoped this time would be different, as his body was struggling to keep up with the demand of an Ireheart's bloodlust, as evident by his stitched breast. Most of his brethren already knew how to utilize their Ire like second nature, but Angr's reservations allowed this quality to run rampant.

 

       Around him, many hundred spiders of varying sizes watched from their burrows, some even daring to reveal themselves a few meters away. They would go no closer, staring at the apex predator of their ecosystem with a paralyzing hesitation. It was no secret that these arachnoids were timid due to the land's history, but Angr lived down here. He had slaughtered countless amounts of their kin prior simply because he could, he hunted them. Angr had planned on their visit, using their presence as temptation for his hunger to kill as he quietly waited to ****** it and pull himself back in.

 

       The Ireheart's skin was washed in stony grays and faded greens as he patiently sat for hours, internal turmoil simmering just beneath. He knew he couldn't rush his restraint, he needed to make sure that he could differentiate between himself and his bloodline in the heat of battle. The stirring darkness ahead gave way to lapping waves, thoughts crashing into his mind's cliff. He dwelled on how badly he wanted glory, the triumph of victory. Daily work dulled his direction, he grew more and more lost the longer he went without scratching the itch. He had dedicated himself to the tasks nobody else would do, but he didn't want to be left out because of it. This made him angry, no, this made him furious. He had put in the work, he had offered himself to preform the services of Dungrimm, why should he have to suffer the curse of incompetency? In a blinding movement, Angr bolted up and roared as he hurled his fist to the spider in front of him.

 

       And yet he stopped.

 

       He had stopped himself mere centimeteres away from the fuzzy head of a mid sized spider, allowing it the chance to scurry away with its life. He panted as his blood seethed in his veins, and he understood what he was missing. Nothing was owed to him, his performance, his results were his own. He had a long way to go before he could swim in his ancestry instead of drown. He scoffed as he plopped back down into his puddle. "Yavok yu bahstahd..." Angr grumbled. If he ever wanted to do his clan proud, he would need to continue to practice under various methods. He wondered, how could anyone ever hope to be on the level of Yavok, a legend who learned to master his fire. Perhaps that is why he was declared Irehearted, because he had found a way to channel his anger physically into his pumping arteries, rather than the annexes of his brain.

 

       Once more, he fell back into his trance. His psyche lulled ever deeper underwater where he could again try to swim, rather than drown.

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