A/N: Some graphic descriptions of violence are scattered in the story.

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4 April.

I have decided, in light of my current situation, to start recording some of my travels. I have a large codex, ink, and quills, and I have been lucky to acquire literacy in my time, and so I feel using it so perhaps if someone were to read these eventually, if I should actually end up not as the abomination that I think I am, they would learn somewhat about the situation of one who was literally rejected by the afterlife.

I know the day since I inquired about it in town. This codex may be the only way I keep track of time. It may be ponderous to carry, but I am luckily quite fit from my endeavors.

It has been about a month since I awoke in a pool of drying blood. I still remember the pain. Oddly, I am somewhat intrigued by it. Pain is normally not something one strives for...but I occasionally find my brain wandering back to the feeling that I had. I cannot say why, but perhaps it is because I feel a few of my other senses have been dulled, though I can't be quite sure. Perhaps it is trauma. Perhaps they will return. My eyesight is as sharp as ever, and I swear I can hear even better than before, but taste, touch, and somewhat smell feel dulled. When I tasted a meal at an inn, I thought it bland, but I remembered the place-being near my home-having fairly good fare.

My body feels different as well. Colder. I sometimes think my heart randomly stops beating at times, but am not sure. I wonder if I breathe out of habit. I try to avoid places mostly which once knew me, though I was not particularly well known. My hair, which was always fair, has gone white. I swear it grows faster now, though I am not sure.

Truth is, I feel half dead, and my dreams tend to be disturbing. Sometimes I find my thoughts getting even more so. Other times I do not dream, and it feels even worse.

Perhaps that is enough for my first entry.

Tomorrow I will set forth. Maybe south. I will move slowly, as I feel like I need to clear my head from all that I had experienced.

6 April.

I realized in my travels-I am camped somewhere in a small set of wooded foothills-that I never did explain my situation. If I am to record things properly, perhaps whoever gets this should know what happened.

Suffice it to say, I was killed, but I woke up. You may ask if I am certain of this fact. Perhaps I was just gravely wounded and recovered, as this is not impossible. How can one be sure they were dead if they do not know what being dead is like?

I am certain I was dead.

But there was no Valhalla waiting for me...or Heaven or Hell for that matter.

There was pain.

Crows-messengers of the dead-staring at me. I never knew such pain existed, as it felt like thousands of hot blades being repeatedly shoved through my body again and again, for what seemed to be an eternity, but turned out to be no more than a day, if that.

I don't much remember the death. We were ambushed, and I was shot down with arrows and stabbed. The pain I felt afterward was a hundred times worse.

When I woke up, I was in my current state. Covered in bloody, battered clothing, I went into hiding for several days to gather my thoughts.

I doubt the rest is of interest to anyone. It does not matter-I'm here now and wondering what to do.

I will say that I feel I should sleep...but I don't think my body needs it. Everything I do is out of habit.

7 April

I believe this large swath of forest is home to a few bandit groups. I do not fear them; despite no longer having my sword, I have a dagger and common rabble are easily handled with just my bare hands. I can easily send a few of them to the ground to maybe rethink things.

I kill if I must, but many of them are desperate men driven to their lives through unfortunate means.

8 April

A day's travel into the forest, I have to say it's quite pleasant. I managed to ambush a small deer today with my dagger; I moved a lot quicker than I thought I could, and was able to hold it with much more ease than I remember, but perhaps I was just hungry for something other than endless salt beef. Not even caring about bringing bandits down on my head I set a fire for the night to camp. The fresh meat was fairly comforting, even if I cannot taste as well as I used to. The texture was different enough, and it was quite red, giving it the tinge of blood.

Some ravens came to visit me. I found it odd, but had enough to share with them. I felt surprisingly at home this night, the moon was out and for once I felt somewhat peaceful, even if I still feel strange.

10 April

I am perhaps halfway through the woods; the morning is warm though the sun is hidden behind thick clouds. I had not spent this much time alone in nature in ages; it has always been the part of a larger unit. I think I soon may enjoy some conversation again in a town.

10 April

You may ask why I wrote twice in one day, or why this page, and some of the codex, is now smeared with blood. Sure enough, I was waylaid by bandits, much like I suspected, as I am a lone man who, without his armor, sword, or shield, does not look like much of a threat. I am larger than many commoners, but do not particularly put on the countenance of an extremely dangerous man. They outnumbered me seven to one, as well.

I have apparently woken up from my death-which I am now fully convinced it was-with power far beyond my comprehension.

I simply caught one off guard with a simple punch. Enough to perhaps break his nose it it hit square, or so I thought.

My surprise when my fist collapsed half of his face in as if it were made of brittle clay must have been palpable. It must have surprised them, as well, given their reaction. The man dropped screaming; I could think of nothing in the heat of battle than to try to put him out of his misery. The side of his face was a mask of blood and broken bone. I can still see the way he looked at me with his good eye.

Forgive this entry. It is not going to be pretty.

I thought a well placed blow from my heel would simply put him out quickly, but again I had no idea what sort of power I had; his skull shattered to pieces when my boot struck it.

I have no idea where this strength came from.

One by one they came at me with weapons drawn in a panic, having seen their fellow destroyed in such a brutal and bloody manner, and I remember getting a dagger in my chest...and their expressions when I stood after falling over. It is at this point where I felt a red haze take over me, far worse than any battle lust I may have fallen into on the field in my life.

Afterward I stood, a broken sword in my shoulder that I barely felt, a dagger in my ribs that for all intents and purposes should have ended me, a knife through my left eye which should have killed me twice, and the bodies-nay, pieces-of seven bandits scattered around my general vicinity. I don't think I had ever been covered in as much blood and viscera before, and I had fought in many, many battles. Granted, I was usually armored, and I had seen many an atrocity...but this was different. The corpses looked as if they had been hit by siege weaponry...only I knew I had done this with my bare hands. The dagger still remained on my belt, sheathed.

I did not know what disturbed me more about this day-the condition I was in...or how indifferent I was to it all.

I would like to clear my head now. Perhaps when I recover I will write more.

April?

I have lost track of days; I think it may still be April, but it has been roughly two weeks-I think-since I slaughtered the bandits.

I will use this to collect my thoughts from the past days.

Washing in a nearby stream afterward, my old set of clothes were ruined, save for my heavy boots, which I was simply able to wash. The rest of my clothing had too many tears and slashes in it. I luckily had one change with me, though it turned out to be all black; I suppose it suits my current...situation. A cloak, tunic and trousers, I now almost resemble one of the skulking assassins one might find. A far cry from a past anointed knight, though that life I feel is long behind me now.

I am completely healed. I was completely healed within moments. After I was stabbed in the chest, I knew my heart stopped, but I woke up. I could feel the pain of the blows. I was slashed, chopped at and cut many times. It only carried me forward, making me want to fight more, harder, more brutal.

It was far beyond battle-rage. It was something completely different. I don't know what.

My eye healed as well. I can see perfectly, though when I glanced at it the next day, instead of the red hole that was there-which somehow did not even bother me-my eye reformed with its color not the same as my other, when I looked at it in the stream. It is a strange golden color now. I do not know what to make of it, but I fear if I think too much about things my already short grasp of sanity may fray even more.

I had left the ruined corpses-what was left-where they fell. Being bandits, their deaths will not be mourned even if they are discovered by humans before the wild animals get to them, if there was even enough left.

The ravens came to me again as I sat at my fire. I may need to head to a close town soon to restock supplies. I had lived off of what I could hunt the past days, as I was unsure I wanted to be around people after the incident.

I apologize for the disjointed nature of my writing now. I simply need to come to grips with things.

May X.

Managed to find a small town. The people were clearly uncomfortable around me. I do not blame them.

I restocked what things I had and moved on. I have no shortage of money; I had taken what the bandits had-they no longer needed it-and I can hold out. If necessary I am able to find other ways to procure things.

Still heading south east, toward Hungary. I am still in the Holy Empire. I look forward to moving to a new area. Perhaps it will let me clear my head more.

May.

The day is no longer important. I wake when I do, and do something that resembles sleep when it grows dark, though I feel like I have been awake more nights lately and taking more time during the day to rest.

I found more bandits last night.

I found their camp...but I for some reason did not pass them by. I alerted them to my existence before disappearing into the darkness and dropping on one from above like a bird of prey might. My boot took his head off.

Why I did this I do not know. I...feel like I wanted to fight them.

The result was much like last time. I left them in torn and bloody pieces. I'm not sure I like what I have become. I let them hit me, though. I let them get blows with their swords on me, since somehow I subconsciously knew they would not kill me. Like last time, it made me grow more bloodthirsty.

I took a dagger from a fallen one and rigged that and my own on each of my arms, more like animal claws. I feel it is more fitting.

May.

In town, I sat hunched over beer and meat, when I overheard people talking about finding bandits that were seemingly ripped apart by wild beasts.

Their relief was obvious. It did not even bother them they were left in pieces it would seem. They were happy they were dead.

I suppose I am happy I could oblige them, though I'm not sure how I feel about the wild beast comment.

Accurate, I think.

June?

It is summer, to be sure. It has been awhile since I decided to put my thoughts in this codex. I have come across a possible dwelling. An abandoned stone tower, near the border of the Holy Empire and Hungary, though tucked away near some forest. I suppose it may have been a waycastle some years ago, though unused.

Inside, I was able to fashion a sort of place to stay. A large window lets in light if I am awake during daylight hours, and I don't need much sleep anyway.

I am convinced I am now immortal. I have ended up in a few more fights, all of which I allowed my opponents to strike at me with full force. I do this now, as it feels like this is some of the little left I can experience. It drives my adrenaline and clouds my brain with a killing haze. I suppose I am now mad, though I guess that is what the gods deemed to do to me, so I accept it.

If I am to be some sort of wild savior of the countryside, so be it. Perhaps I was punished.

As a knight, I did not always do things that the common people would be considered 'good'. In fact, I probably did some despicable things in the name of whatever the church, of which I fell out of belief with, told me to.

Perhaps this is my penance. Living for an unknown amount of time, losing my feeling. Food tastes bland no matter what I put on it, though I am able to keep myself fed through hunting. I was gifted with inhuman physical strength of which I can use to tear enemies to pieces with, so I suppose if I run about and destroy those who might do harm to the common folk, no matter how gruesomely, perhaps I can make up for some of the wrongs I have done in the name of the church.

I wish I could perhaps tell those what awaits them for their supposed good service. But no need, since I have started to turn on the ones who would start to harm the more common folk as well too. Their armor tears under my grasp as if it were made of leaves. I leave the conscripts be. I know which to go after, as I had fought as one for years.

I do not know the reason behind what happened, so perhaps my mind is just trying to set itself at ease justifying my near obsession with finding battles in which I can try to die in only to let it fuel me and turn the tables on my opponents in a horrific fashion.

I hear the ravens in my window. I am sitting outside of my tower writing this. I will go feed them now. I find I prefer their company more to people these days, though it may be that they seem to feel me wrong. I do not blame them.

It's a shame they see the ravens as bad omens. They are intelligent. Three of them have been coming around and they seem to know me by my appearance.

I do not know if I will get back to this codex. Perhaps if I end up dying after all, someone may find it. Or perhaps I will get back to it after a time.

Time is something that I feel I am going to have a lot of.

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A/N:

So figuring out Raven's vast powers, it seems like he developed them after his immortality hit. He has a lot of everything; extreme magical knowledge and vast physical power. I sort of thought that the magic would have been developed over time, but his first powers were probably physical(his physical strength is so great he can do everything from lift Potemkin effortlessly with one arm, to block a sword thrust from Sol, the latter being unable to budge him...and he did it with two fingers in the novel, not to mention how he fights with blades on two fingers he's so powerful. ) I thought it would be interesting to see him find out he has some of his powers accidentally; he never even thought to use that much force beforehand.

Raven's mother tongue is German, however he's clearly at least bilingual in game(possibly multilingual), but I stick with English for the story for clarity.

He's very well spoken in the official source material, giving me an idea he was educated. I wonder if his dialogue will change over the course of the story...

This story will prove to be pretty fun to do I think.