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Message: <blockquote data-quote="PHDungeon" data-source="post: 5513612" data-attributes="member: 86320">Here are two journals from Smar's POV regarding the last couple of sessions.The spirits weave strange wills. I once told myself that I could control my bloodlust. I once told myself that I would never hurt an innocent. I am not sure if I followed those rules today. My pack’s plan was good. We would head to the house where the drow had stayed, find out where they went, track them down, and retrieve the magic item that could stop the end of the natural world. The spirits should have been proud. Like most hunts, this one turned to chaos the moment our paws took us in the direction of our query. A one eyed giant exited the building right as I picked up an elf’s body out of the trash. I don’t think I ever expected to find myself in that situation, but one of my pack can speak with the dead. The plan made sense at the time. I tried to pretend to be a beggar; a dog looking for scraps to eat. I don’t make a good dog anymore. The maid saw my fangs, my axes, and started to back away. If she raised an alarm my pack would have become the hunted. She was helping clear a house of a brutal murder, a brutal murder that her people condoned. I had no time to think. I acted. My axe sprung to my hands and cut her throat before I had time to consider the full ramifications of my actions. Was this my bloodlust coming to the surface? She had no weapons. Can I honestly say that she was any guiltier of brutality than me? But it was too late. When my pack heard the voice of a living elf in the house we sprang to action again. I allowed the wolf to take my flesh. I became the spirit of the hunter. In the house my teeth, my axes, were a blur. The warriors died well. But, another maid ran to open the front door. This would have allowed more guards to pour into the house. It was too late again. I climbed up her back from behind, using one axe to hoist myself up the flesh of her back, and the other to open her jugular. Who was the monster in this story, the one eyed giants, or me?In any case, we saved the elf. She knew the pattern for a teleportation circle. My shape shifting pack mate used it to take us into the halls of the Eladrin. Eladrin who worshiped the Lady of the Moon. The very same Lady of the Moon responsible for the butchery of my people. If the spirits considered my actions in this city under the earth to be reprehensible, I was about to give them the chance to see to my execution.The spirits were not offended enough to call for my life. The Eladrin were rude. Of course, I expected no better from a follower of the Lady of the Moon (odd to think that one such has become a packmate—ah well, I suppose necessity makes strange burrow mates). Then again, these Eladrin treated Melek little better, despite their common patron. It seems that they mistreat everyone who is not Eladrin. Still, they gave us a place to stay, and the means by which to return to the forests, hills, and plains, that me and my pack calls home. If they tore up our means of returning to their ‘fair’ city, what is it to me? I would never willingly return to this cesspit of meat, unfit even to be prey, anyways. In Grimmsburg luck favoured my pack. The Odin worshiper who kept calling me ‘dog’ left. I cannot be more thankful. I was starting to consider killing him in his sleep. If I did it during my watch, I might have been able to eat the body before my companions awoke. I jest, of course. But his choice to leave us has left me howling at the moon in glee. Of course, it would be nice if we were not promptly joined by another of his Aesir worshiping kin, but at least this one is not a Skanzi. A dwarf rune priest of Odin has taken the Skanzi’s place. Hopefully this one will not show quite as much disdain for my brethren. Hopefully I will be able to avoid showing this one quite as much disdain for his choice of pantheon.Soon enough my pack hears of another track in our hunt. It seems that the tribe of man-bulls from which Turak hails has been attacking the dwarfs of Hammerfast. Our pack quickly jumped onto eagles called forth by Melek and went to investigate. I feel for Turak. A brief encounter with a group of his tribe made it quite clear that they have been corrupted. I know what it is like to lose one’s people to their bloodlust. Killing my kin in the city of the one eyed giants felt like I was cutting my own flesh. Still, they were lost to their own insanity. They left me no choice. Now, it seems, Turak’s people are leaving him as few options.</blockquote>

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