February
Sunday 22 March 2009 photo 1/1
|
Sunday 22 March 2009 photo 1/1
|
|
My days at the rogue citadel seem so long ago. I sought refuge among other outcasts, high in the mountains past the eastern gate.
Oh, I fought sleep for days at a time. For when I dreamt, the memories would return. Memories of the monastery and the evil which had claimed it. Dreams, memories, I could not tell the difference anymore.
And the evil from my dreams followed me in my heels. How had he found me here? How could this broken shell of a man, barely able to carry the weight of his own sword, be the burning terror which drove me to hide here?
He seemed to... to have demons of his own, that he struggled to contain. And he was losing.
As I watched I became convinced that I was truly mad. The terror, the destruction, the evil I witnessed. How else could I explain them? Were these the demons from my dream or... were they born... within the wanderer.
Why did I follow him? I don't know... Why do things happen as they do in dreams? All I know is that when he beckoned, I had to follow him. From that moment, we travelled together east. Always into the east...
Fan vad jag längtar! Diablo 3, svik mig inte!!!
Visa toppen
Show footer