The Orphaner's Journal
Howw dares she? Not contented with stealing my triumph and prevventing me from getting the recognition that is lawwfully mine she throwws this insult into my face! To see Mindfang dandle with a filthly loww blood. A slavve, mere plunder from our raid. I wwill not let this vvexation stand. Not until the mud that movves through that wwenches vveins is spilt on the ground before me.
The girl is no more. I thought that wwhen her lifeless body would sprawwl at my feet I wwould feel satisfaction. But wwhat I felt wwhen I looked at her motionless form lying there with her jade blood spilt on the ground as it reflected the light of the green moon wwas something different. An unpleasant shadoww descended upon me, swwallowwing me wwhole.
Finally I realised wwhat manner of demon has caught hold of me. Days I havve spent, trying to dispell this malady that had ovvercome me after that wworthless slavve girl's life had ended by my hands. But no matter howw much wwine had passed my lips, howw often I ran my hands through the spoils of my plunders it persisted as if it had rooted itself deep within my sole. Rage ovvercame me and laying wwaste to my quarters I suddenly caught glimpse of a gilded mirror. A goblet had shattered the glass and as I looked at it they stared back at me through cracked reflections. Wwhat a pathetic shell of a trollian being it was, gaunt, so weak it seemed that it wwas a wwonder that it wwas even able to support its frame. I had often saww it in the lowwer classes as they scurried along the filthy alleys of their hives like squeak beasts desperate for cheese. It wwas hopelessness.
Wwhat is one wwithout hope? I havve lost count howw often I had clinged on to it, after evvery rejection, after each rebuke. That mayhaps my next deed, the magnificent vvictory against all odds, the vvanquishment of a hated enemy wwould bring a change, make a difference. And each and evvery time they wwould dismiss my exploits, laugh at my misfortunes and each and evvery time I wwould vvituperate I was met with disgust of my wweakness or wworse, pitied. Anything, evven death must be better than to livve like this.
This wwill be the last time that I wwrite in here. I havve spent the last days personally polishing my most magnificent jewwelry and have draped myself in the most splendorous fabric that my riches wwould afford me. No one shall be able to say that Orphaner Dualscar did not look his best when he stood in the presence of his mirthful horror, the grand Subjugglator. There I wwill present my evvidence against my dearest enemy the Marquise Spinnerette Mindfang, laying out in delicate detail her crimes against trollian society. Hah! I am not deluded enough to believve that it wwill come as a surprise to the court. As useless fools those bellicose bureaucrats are evven they
knoww what she and I and oh so many, many more nobles havve wwrought on this wworld. Howw else than through their silent consent can wwe continue to livve our livves of debauchery and decadence. Just for the embarrassment alone they wwill havve me executed. Not that I think for a second that the highblood wwill wwait for the court to be able to formulate their reasoning. But they wwill be forced to act.
Oh my dear Mindfang, howw I wwould lovve to see your face as you realise your fate. As they movve in, trapping you like an animal in their grasp. Herding you out onto the bloodthirsty masses, lowwbloods eager to see a noble being presented her wwell deservved price at the end of a noose. But fear not. Wwe wwont be separated for long and wwhen wwe are reunited I wwill drag you kicking and screaming as wwe descend into hell together.