Sentiment of the Promised Land

[Hoovyking]

How I miss the days of wild hunts with my brothers. 
Leaving that cavern with infinite energy, and returning battered and broken.
Only to bid my kin to rise, and hunt again.
How I wish time would return to that simplicity.

Death is a hunter. 

It is patient. A lurking shadow that flows across the ground and splits into the night sky. It is a watchful eye that never ceases. It follows me, it follows my kindred, and it follows my enemies. It is fair, imparital in it's dealing and utterly devoid of emotion. For so long, I felt immortal. A relentless hunter who's only goal was to bring death and never recieve it. How is it that now that I feel it's scythe upon my neck. 

In all my life, I have never felt fear of pain, of failure, or of loss. I have always told myself that I was a torch to lead them to something great. That my kindred were seeds to be planted, and for my role to be the guardian to nuture them. How proud I was to see my finest student return, to see the fruits of my magic turn another into something beyond. Even as my brothers and sisters, my sons and daughters die on this field of battle, I will always remain proud. I will not let their final moments be in vain.

Eventide, can't you see it? 
My dream came true. We are united, all of us. We were more than hunters and gatherers. More than monsters to be slain by vallient heroes.
Even if I must die to give them one final push towards victory, I will allow it.

Tomorrow, I will lead them. Just as any king would. I will go without fear as I always have, and my wrath and power will not be found wanting. I will go. 

I must go.

For all their sakes. For our future. 

For our kingdom. 

-Blaidd, Firstborn of Twilight and Elder Kaor of the Abysal Covenant. 

These notes are left scattered, transcribed by someone else's hands, and left in the mysterious Dreadwoods.