"Do you know how much time I wasted looking for you?" Reaver and Jane were in the chariot. Jane couldn't speak she was losing too much blood and felt faint all she could manage was, "Sorry."
"I'm going to delay your payment for this." He looked at the bloodstained seat, "And I suppose I'll have to take that out of your payment." Then Jane blacked out. "Maids take care of this girl" Reaver sighed and walked out of the chariot, "And will someone please get me a bottle of wine."
The next morning Jane found herself in her bed when she was expecting herself to be headed towards a light of some sorts and then it hit her, "UGH MY ARM" she saw the bandages and an agonizing pain shot up and down her arm. She was furious she wanted to kill Reaver, "I'll make that bastard pay." She grabbed a knife and ran into the study only to find Reaver sleeping in his chair with a bottle of wine next to him. She saw her chance and quietly crawled towards him, "You immoral bastard you deserve to d-" her thoughts were interrupted by a low groan that had made her heart stop. She watched his eyes flutter and his mouth twitch he was almost perfect when he slept, "Come on do it. I'll be quick and you'll be free. Come on." Her knife was right against his throat but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't do it.
After a while she gave up and walked to the book shelves in frustration when something caught her eye, a brown tattered journal stood out amongst the other books, "How unusual for Reaver to have something so…dirty." She opened it.
"This is my first night back since the renovations, and I must say that chap from Rookridge has done a splendid job. A small miracle considering he'd recently lost three toes and two family members. But what was I to do? He wouldn't be persuaded to abandon the construction of some worthless temple to aid me in my time of crisis. And his predecessor had simply the worst taste in furnishings. I was generous to let him live as long as I did. Now that awful scent of burned wood and flesh has dissipated, perhaps I shall throw a party. Ursula and Penelope will be my guests of honor. Shame Andrew crumbled to ashes in the fire. What a sweet young fellow... But such a heavy sleeper." Jane frowned and rolled her eyes beginning to get bored but she continued reading, "It's good to be home after these three last months at sea. My ship barely made it back to port under the weight of such spoils, and then only after we disposed of those less valuable. It was a pity to see my new brides sink into the ocean. But their sizeable attributes rendered them unfeasibly heavy. And I'd already tossed all non-essential crew members into the ever undulating arms of the kraken. I believe my most cherished memory from this voyage has to be the discovery island far to the south of Albion, among waters of an indescribable blue. There, men and women consort in ways even I found slightly objectionable. They have little need for clothing under that gentle sun, and their fondness for a syrupy liqueur made from an obscenely-shaped fruit made it almost too easy to plunder their possessions. I might have stayed there forever, had it not been for the monkey incident" Jane was now getting more curious, "I am filled with a wonderful weariness tonight. My bedroom is far too crowded to get a good night's sleep, and I'm too indolent to eject any of my lovely guests. Instead I thought I would sit in my study sipping a restorative beverage, and enjoying my own company. It reminds me of my very first evening in this house. My bedfellows were fewer and less charming then, but I had less energy left anyways. It isn't every day that one murders a pirate king, and takes his place. Oh, I had the vigor of youth back then. Real youth. How many must have I killed on my way to this very room? I shall never forget the look on the brigand's face, one so ill-suited to royalty of any kind. How he came to such a position being so slow on the draw is a perfect mystery. I feel somewhat reinvigorated now, and I hear stirrings upstairs. Perhaps the night isn't quite over yet." Jane heard another groan and quickly looked back only to still see a sleeping Reaver then she looked back to the book, "I received an unusual visitor today, an adventurer who'd toddled in through Wraithmarsh, losing neither life, limb nor sanity on the way. This alone would have been sufficient to mark her as a unique individual, but once I'd learned she'd escaped from the demented grip of none other than Lord Lucien, I had knew I had quite a catch in my hands. I sent an emissary to speak with Lucien and came to a lucrative arrangement. Since the time of the tribute is nearing - I can already feel the wrinkles begin to form on my face - I sent the poor sod to the Shadow Court to keep her busy. I'm sure the old loon in the Spire won't mind if I post her back slightly decrepit. Should make it easier to keep her locked up. I think I'll celebrate my good fortune be commissioning a new portrait. I've heard of a chap with some sort of magical apparatus that renders almost lifelike results. I believe his name was Barnum, I shall have him brought to me today." Jane was becoming intrigued by this diary, "I awoke from the nightmare again. One would think more than two hundred years would suffice to blunt it's steel. But still I see Oakvale devoured by shadows. Still those shrieks fill the air. How much longer must I live before they fall silent? Such dreams belong to another time. To another man. One who would recoil from the things I've done since that night. Who might even care about all the sacrifices I've offered up to the odious Judges over... over how long? Hundreds of years? I see that man as he was back then. As beautiful as me, as fiery as me, but so delicate. So breakable. And so afraid of death. I see him summon the Shadow Court into this world, oblivious to the consequences. He asks them for immunity for the disease of time and death, and they grant it. Then I see him running madly through fields, the realization of just what price he has unwittingly paid hanging like a tragedy mask from his face. He falls to his knees before the town he called home- now a dark circus of screams. Hers is among them, but he can do nothing to stop it. What a weak, despicable man he is. But I am not he. I am Reaver. And I will sleep much better after this chalice of wine."
Jane felt the barrel of a gun press up against her heard, "Well , I believe this is goodbye my dear."