A painter's end

[TheBigBubbles 714]

 

What is death but an absence of love?

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Ksenia Palchikova

 

A lone orcess roamed through lonely forests and empty grasslands. Her search was simple: food. She'd return to the hearth that she had stoked, to a catatonic mother. No words were exchanged, even if the youngling wanted to, she wouldn't have any to give. Years went by in this disgraceful state. Surviving off of odds and ends and scraps of meat. Even throughout all of it, she took solace in what she could feel, touch, and smell. The feeling of earth beneath her feet, the chirping of birds. They looked so free. Was she one of the animals? A creature easily amused by the simple give and take of nature? Or was she something below even the lowly bird, for even they had family.

 

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Disha Orsha

 

Giving, and giving, and giving. The youth was drowning. It was time to fly the coop.

 

Death

 

The catatonic husk would surely die. The woman she'd once called 'Momo'. Guilt had to be pushed aside, she could not live her life as an outcast. She couldn't live it on the edge of society in the shadow of a grieving mother.

 

Unequipped Unable Unsuited

 

Chierae Hawksong? No. That family had abandoned her mother, and if they abandoned her, then they had abandoned Chierae. Who was she really? Who was she beyond the reaches of the forest? The waking death she'd endured, the tombstone of her childhood. Chierae did not know, and even if she did, she didn't have the words to express it.

 

The feotid orcess wandered through the lands of man. A woman of few words, and plentiful anxiety. Her hair was ungroomed, and her clothing was naught but scraps. Her mastery of the common language even worse, she could hardly manage one or two word sentences. Chierae gave the wrong impression. Defensiveness was mistaken as hostility; Fear as hatred, and ignorance as stupidity. Hostility, hatred and stupidity however, was levied against her in full.

 

But not for long

 

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Rovina Cai

 

An elf? The elves had scourned her mother and resulted in the untimely death of her brother. This one, though, this one was different. A home? A bed? Love? Chierae's naive eyes were blinded to the truth of her new elven guardian, but that veil would be lifted soon enough. These elves were very different. They behaved like orcs. Raiding, pillaging and most surprisingly of all, cannabilsm. Yet, she did not question it. This must be what elves do. Perhaps there is just evil in every race. Chierae kept her maw shut, lest rot pour out of it. The orcess was not familiar with the traditions of the elves, she shouldn't push her luck in the only place that had accepted her.

Years pass this way. Finally, she had a home and a community. Her worries about their behaviour began to melt away. These people were family afterall. Family is to be forgiven.

Chierae had finally begun to open up. This time it was within the shelter of a lonesome tavern, somewhere in a desolate ruin. Between fits of discomfort and intense worry, she spat out one word answers in regards to her life story. It was within this tavern that she laid her soul bare. Jolene - a woman she'd soon call mother, ensnared Chierae into an embrace, a hug that would plant the seed of her ruin. It was a sharp and sudden pain that pierced her nape. Sharp enough that the timid beast retreated, much like a wounded animal might.

 

That was the day the child died.

She was a child no more.

 

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https://www.deviantart.com/malleni-stock

 

Over the course of years, she changed. Any semblance of warmth was replaced by hollow aching. Love, care and joy was robbed from her. It was difficult at first, she was not equipped with the knowledge of how to use a knife and fork, let alone to scheme. The woman who had promised her redemption had sealed her damnation. Chierae had no choice but to adapt.

 

The decades dragged on, and she learned to harness the only gifts that came with her form. Chierae had indulged in countless lives and faces. She had spawned many plotlines of her own. The witch was afforded minimal tutelage as she stumbled through her existence. A trial by fire. The orcess with many faces acrued the knowledge of most any culture. Through experience, she became wiser. The more she learned, the sharper she felt the pain of the proverbial, and literal dagger in her nape. Finally, she had awoken. She refused to be pitiful anylonger

 

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Jana Heidersdorf

 

Wisened and skillful, she participated gleefully with plots and subterfuge. She herself was a coven of two but she provided aid to her cousins. For what was eternity, if one could not enjoy it with those broken just like you. This of course, was not meant to last. The witch soon found the faces of her sisters began to fade. Eventually, she too was abandoned. Like she had done all those years ago to her very own mother. The amalgam of faces set about wandering Almaris, and then Aevos listlessly. Of course, she showed loyalty here and there to various groups, but without the shelter of a coven, she felt vulnerable. Naturally, the orcess returned to what she knew. Her isolation brought about a similar suffering to that of her early days, but twenty times magnified. Over the century, her mind would fragment into pieces, each individual fragment believing she was truly her disguise, a respite from her illnesses, but denial could only last her so long.

 

The orc had two options: Adapt, or break. At this point, she'd exhausted all options for a cure. Chierae had always wanted one, it was not her nature... well, not her true nature to maim and kill. Her curse had brought her naught but suffering. Patience had afforded her true allies, women and men who truly cared for her wellbeing, but she was unable to feel anything in return.

 

She had to escape, she had to fly the coop.

 

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LynxFelidae

 

Retribution

 

The beast she had become made her sick. Chierae vowed that she would do all that she could to extinguish the corrupting forces in this world. Over the course of her undeath, she'd collected many trophies of monsters killed and forged alliances with forces of true good. Even her accursed form was good for one thing - killing. The divine would not save her, but she could save her own self image. The witch endured this existence for far too long. Any wrong move would be fatal. Without a coven to ressurect her, she was entirely alone and entirely helpess, should death come to claim her. Every action warranted searing mental anguish, her fight was as much with her nature as it was with others.

 

Something had to give. A warrior cannot fight forever. Chierae set aside her plans for Judgement, and set her gaze inward. It was time to seek her own peace. The orc, the honourbound orc wrote her fairwells and set her plan into motion. The time had come to be cleansed. The undying warrior set out on her journey to die.

 

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https://www.deviantart.com/atenebris/art/00292-749553288

 

Before the titan, Sol Invicta, Chierae kneeled. The great warrior stripped her weapons from her person, and kicked them aside. A show of complete submission.

 

"I am a disease. I do not wish to be. Take my Essence, my being, and use it. Please"

 

The shield was discarded

 

"I pledge myself to you. If you see it fit that my pledge results in death, then it will be so. I pledged my undeath to extinguishing the dark. I did not want what was robbed of me, taken from another soul. I lay myself bare before you. Should my fight go on. I wish it to be on the right side. Should it end, I wish it to be in service to the light not the dark"

 

"I shall redeem you. Kneel above the fallen. You shall reach the light, together."

 

"Perhaps you do not believe in mercy. If not, use it, turn your rutheless gaze to those who forsook me."

 

"I shall grant you redemption. Freedom from the chains that shackle you. Lay forth next to this one, abandoned by all. Rest your head against his"

 

And so she did

 

"I shall avenge those that cursed you, and shall endure the Order of Death upon all"

 

The end.

 

[!] Letters were distributed, upon the condition that she did not return.

 

On letterboards within some elven territories

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Ragnhild, Monifa, Gerd, Velikur, Allora, Polyxena, Kana, Primrose, Mihira, Yelizavetta. These were my names. Perhaps you met me, a passing face in the crowd. My name is Chierae Hawksong, I scarcely remember my own life, and yet I may have been a doctor, a mother, a sister, or a mentor to you. I was born an orc, I have always been an orc, but in my many lives, and many faces, I hope to have instilled some kind of greater purpose in all of you. Do not stray from the light, no matter the rewards you may think it will bring. Love and hope, exist only in the light of GOD. If you are seeing this letter, I have sought my own redemption, on my own terms. Farewell.

Sarah Artenin

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@Lord_of_losers

Dear Sarah,

 

I don't know if I ever told you my own name. Though, our conversations struck a chord with me. You, in part, convinced me that I could go on just a little longer. I want you to know, that not every interaction you'll have with those of my ilk will be so productive. I have sought my own redemption. I shall either return cleansed, or leave on my own terms. If you do not know it, my name is Chierae. You were one of the only ones I shared my identities with. Thank you for being my friend.

Madoc'Lur

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@Sewer_Rat

Brother,

I go now into the fray. I seek to claim my redemption by means of sword, or by way of diefic intervention. I hope to see you in the stargush one day. Though, I fear both our corrupted souls may not make it there. You were my family, more than my own ever could be, and more than the betrayers could even try to be. Thank you for helping my sister, and letting me see my mother. You were a guiding force, in a world that seemed to be entirely against me.

 

-Chierae

Naele

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@Diogen

Naele.

 

I do not like you. I don't even hate you. You, by some unimaginable means, are the head of all of our ilk today, practically. It's mostly by merit, I can attest to that, you've been a dedicated little force of evil. You taught me, and probably most of our kind. I cannot harbor true resentment for you, as you were there when my own creator was not. I would not deign to call her my mother, you... perhaps I would. Our relationship is strained, it will continue to be strained until I cease to exist. I send this letter, to advise you. I know full well you have changed, the years have treated you well, you've grown more subtle, less loud. More calculating, more insular. This good.

Now, you've learned to be alone. If you want to survive, you have to learn not to be.

I'm leaving, I may not return. I seek to cure myself of our shared malady, I doubt I will succeed, but I will go out on my own terms, and I will go out swinging. In my end, I hope we can reconcile at least a little. Thank you for helping me, even if I believe our ways are misguided.

 

-Chierae

Ophelia

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@Myochii

Ophelia,

You are the only intelligent witch I know. I know the others can be terribly harsh on those that have not ascended, but I want you not to forget your worth. You can and should crusade against the vampyr's that ruined your mortal life. Sister, I love you. I'm sorry, but I cannot take this existence anylonger. The witches I called friends are gone, and I have naught but ruin in my mind. I'm going to try to escape this curse one way or another. Feel free to tell our sisters what you will of me, I harbored resentment for them, but now all I feel is pity, and loss.

 

-Chierae

The Weiss Family

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Dear Weiss Family,

 

If you are recieving this letter, I am no longer available for your employment. I have either died or transcended to fighting evil in every reach of the material plane. Karl, you're a growing lad, and I hope you do well in your training. Seigmund, your burns do not define you, and I am terribly proud of how far you've come. I want you to know a secret I had been keeping. I was cursed at a young age to be a 'darkspawn', I have spent upwards of a century in an attempt to remedy and seek vengence on the corrupting forces that caused me to be this way. If you're recieving this, I finally did it.

 

-Yelizavetta

Uvil'igne Ash

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@Royal Peasant

Son,

I have not seen you in many years. I regret how I treated you. It was and is a product of my curse, the curse you are all too familiar with. I had guided you toward a dark parth, mainly due to my own misguided thoughts that redemption lay in the way of necromancy. False druids that paint their farce with smooth words, and otherworldly promises. It's not too late for you, and hopefully, it is not too late for me.

I embark now on a journey to cleanse my soul. You may never see me again, but I will always be with you.

-Chierae

Nemea

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@Megahusky

Mar'haelun,

 

I love you. I didn't know you too well, but I want you to know if you're recieving this. I'm not suffering anymore.

 

-Chierae Hawksong the Defender of Light

Adam

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@Benleft

Adam,

 

I know not if you are dead, but perhaps we will toast to overcoming our monsterous suffrage in hell.

 

-Chierae

The Hawksong Family

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Dear Hawksongs,

You supposedly sheltered my mother, not that I saw much of it myself. I'm gone, contact any of my family or friends if you want to know why if you even know who they are.

 

-Chierae

Atsuko

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Dear Atsuko, @milksoda

 

If you're recieving this letter. I succeeded. Our last conversation filled me with vigour. I cannot continue to live as a destructive plague, and I cannot force myself to kill my own. It's simply impossible, as much as my logical mind may wish it, my insticts, my animal mind wishes only to protect them.

 

The only responsible thing to do is offer myself up first. Should I be cleansed, I'll be free to enact my revenge, free from the shackles of the unearthly curse that binds me. Should I perish, I will have died with honour, a value that both our cultures value greatly. It is after these reflections and meditations that I set off to meet with a diety. I understand not her full story, nor do I know what will happen when I go, but I know that I shall end this story on my own terms, one way or another, away from the meddling curse that toys with my emotions and turns me into naught but a destructive machine, rather than a person.

 

While you have known me, I was already dead. In death, or purification, I will be restored. I say this now, still under it's influences, but with the faith that I will feel it after all that has transpired. You are a sister to me, I love you.

 

-Monifa (Chierae)

Reza Weiss

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Dear Reza,

 

You likely saw the missive I sent to the entire family. I wanted to thank you personally for hiring me however. I go now to die a warriors death, or ascend to the likes of warriors of the light. I know you would have supported my aims, feel free to distribute my paintings to the children, if they like nature.

 

-Yelizavetta or Chierae

Deadlock

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Dear Deadlock, @megavoltar

 

'Mahira' here, you're a terribly good friend, and I regret to have abandoned the coven of Gashadokuro as I did. I hope that my services were at least of some help, and I truly appreciated all you did for me. I simply could not go on in the way I was. It was not possible, but I appreciate that you tried to help me with my curse regardless. You were a comfort, and probably the one thing that could have swayed me to fight for the betrayer himself. I go now to do the opposite, I hope not to cross blades with you, but if I do, I'll delight in challenging you, a worthy opponent, again.

 

-Mahira, Chierae, ex etera.

Danzen

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@Islamadon

Dear Danzen,

 

I'm not aware of the honourifics I'm supposed to use, but I'm sure Atsuko told you of my condition. I 'fondly' remember our time together in Balian of the old world. Particularly the times where I was able to learn to utilize alchemical reagents to help people, and when I learned to excercise restraint, as was the case with the man and his addiction.

You and I were not close, and yet you taught me a lot. You need not watch for any political moves, or my corruption. I go now, on my own terms to die a warriors death, or live a redeemed life. I shall walk in the light from this moment on, and if you recieve this letter, I have succeeded. I bequeath to you my knowledge of the witches: nada.

 

Take care,

Chierae otherwise known as Monifa.

Astrid of Sabet

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@RMW01

Dear Astrid,

I go now in persuit of Sol Invicta. I was not honest with you about my condition, for fear you'd show me no mercy, but you were a guiding light in my earlier years. I am a witch of frost. I was turned into one by means of a simple hug in a tavern. I was terribly distraught and thought little of the encounter until I began to change.

 

I will pledge myself to the fallen daughter, as a fallen daughter myself, and hope that I too can walk in the light as you do or die in service to it.

 

-Monifa Wallas, or Chierae

Myleres

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Dear Mother, @Myleres

 

I go now with the dragonkin, I might not return. I treasured our relationship for as long as we had it. I do not know what you do now, but I spoke with the nephilim, they miss you, they see you as family. I know not if your relationship with them is as turbulent as mine is with the witches, but I wish you nothing but joy in your eternal life.

I seek to purify myself, and will do so if given the chance. This isnt a slight against you, or any of your efforts to help me. I will always appreciate them. I hope you know that whatever happens, I will always be with you as your daughter.

 

-Mihira Ithelanean

Kuku'lur

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@Satyrdays

My sister, my twin.

 

I don't know where you are, or what has become of you, but I fear I will have to leave you to suffer the path alone. We still have family in various elven nations, our grandmother Nemea, and you already know Madoc, of course. I have suffered a great deal with my curse, and I embark now to try to go to the stargush forever.

 

'Mi lub lat -chi chi'

 

 

 

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I forgot to add this earlier. As an OOC note, specifically to Diogen and the witches. Thank you for all you've done for the community. Please keep your own health in mind even as you're in leadership. Good luck with everything, and with future ammendments etc.

 

[Lord_of_losers 1013]

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@Lord_of_losers

Dear Sarah,

 

I don't know if I ever told you my own name. Though, our conversations struck a chord with me. You, in part, convinced me that I could go on just a little longer. I want you to know, that not every interaction you'll have with those of my ilk will be so productive. I have sought my own redemption. I shall either return cleansed, or leave on my own terms. If you do not know it, my name is Chierae. You were one of the only ones I shared my identities with. Thank you for being my friend.

 

Receiving the letter, she decided that reading it could wait until she found herself in the comfort of her own home, with a cuppa and a biscuit. Having spotted the more generic letters, she could only assume the very same collector of names was the writer of this letter. The handwriting matched, at least.

 

Although touched by the short letter, glad to have given Chierae just a little more willpower, she was saddened by its sense of finality. Saddened, because it read as a final goodbye. She could sense that in writing this, the sender likely did not believe they would return cleansed - not of this curse, anyway.

 

A sigh leaves her body. She rests her cheek against her own hand, propped up on the dining table to support her head. In her left hand, she read the contents a few more times before ultimately coming to terms with what it meant... This was the last time they'd ever speak, and she never had a chance to reply.

 

Quite a few names she'd known, friends and some good acquaintances, had all met their end recently. Another candle would be lit, joining the company of two others that were nearing the end of their wick. Shutting her eyes, she offered a prayer to the fallen.

 

"I pray that wherever you are, you are granted mercy. You did not deserve your fate, but life can be a cruel thing. Rest now, and may you find grace in the afterlife." - It was wishful thinking. The letter would be treated as a small treasure, a memento, tucked away and given care.

[Sewer_Rat 542]

Receiving the letter, the Uruk would read it before reciting a prayer to Kor himself. Once he read the contents of the letter, he would grab a shovel and walk over to the shore of the lake surrounding Caza de Lur. "Latz will be remembered ziztur agh mi will make zhure latz get a proper burial." He solemnly says to himself, as he begins to dig a grave and prepare for the burial of his good friend.