Arc I: Spellhold
"The greatest hazard of all,
Losing one's self,
Can occur very quietly in the world,
As if it were nothing at all."
- Søren Kierkegaard, The Sickness Unto Death
Blood. She could smell it dripping down the walls, pooling at the stones at her feet. Once, something like this would have made her weak and ill, but now, it was absolutely delicious. She scoffed at only how an hour earlier, she had been lying close to death. She wanted to laugh at the fact that she had been limping up until a few moments before. So this was how weak her mortal shell was after all? Why not abandon it?
She wanted to sit back and enjoy the scene and the raw power flowing through her entire being.
"My... Child of Bhaal!" Bodhi exclaimed. "What have you become?"
A thick chuckle emanated from her bestial throat. "Stronger."