Lore

The Goddess speaks through the abundant life here, as she speaks to us everywhere on this world. And here, in this sacred place, the Sanctuary itself calls to me. It is a song that carries on the warm, gentle winds of summer, a song that hums beneath the babbling of the running stream, a song I hear in the cry of every bird, every predator, every tree, every living thing I can see and many that I, Rayna Darkspear, cannot.

The Sanctuary’s song has long spoken to me, as it speaks to all of us. But of late, I hear things the others do not. I fear my sisters do not let themselves hear these notes of the song, either because they are not as attuned to its sound as I am – or perhaps because they choose not to believe these dark sounds could be part of the great web of life with which the Goddess blesses us.

I have thought long and hard about this.
I have listened to the song of the Sanctuary for days on end, sharpening my focus until the gentle, healing notes are a dim sound. Now, all I hear is a deep undercurrent of anger and despair. What is it that cries out to me so? And why can the others not hear? Or worse – why do they lie about what they DO hear?

There can be only one reason. They do hear it. They know this forest suffers, they know the Sanctuary hides its pain within gentle sounds and healing power.
But I know it is there. And I will do something about it even if they will not.

There can be no healing with suffering. I will burn away this darkness and cleanse the Sanctuary. I will restore the song of the Goddess, even though it will cause pain before all is said and done.

If my sisters will not help me, they are lost. And they will burn with the rest.

Lore

Eyes. Eyes everywhere. Eyes on the ground. On the trees. Eyes growing from the walls and cliffs and the caverns and the doomed, corrupted beasts of the wild.

But when I turn to strike out their hideous light? To plunge my blade deep into their damnable gaze? They are gone! Sunken back into the earth, or closed to the bright light of my holy sword. The Goddess keeps me safe, the Goddess keeps me strong.

And yet. My pumera was unsteady and weak.
For days now, my constant companion, a cub who had known me my entire life, had eaten little, growing thin and wiry. Her fur had begun to fall out in patches, while cankers and boils appeared where the hair was gone. I feared for her. I prayed to the Goddess to help her.

The Goddess did nothing for my pumera. She did not keep my companion safe, did not keep her strong. And as I watched the creature that trusted me suffer more and more, suffer to the point where she lashed out, even at me, I saw it.

The boils and cankers were not boils and cankers at all. And as they blinked open, their terrible yellow orbs knew my very soul, and I did not hear the Goddess again.

I drove my blade through the largest of the eyes, transfixing the howling beast. She did not die right away. Over and over I had to strike, until the eyes were a ruined mess of gore and rot. But my friend suffers no more.

Yet still the eyes are all around me.
I cannot put them all out, not if I had all the time in the world. Do I even want to? My pumera suffered and died, but what if it was being reborn into something new?

What if I, too, will be reborn? What if these wounds on my arms and legs are… yes. Yes.

I am being watched. But I do not fear the eyes. They watch over me now, as the Goddess once did. The Goddess who betrayed me, and betrayed my pumera. She made us weak. The Strain will make us strong. Stronger. Better. Deadlier. Victorious.

Lore

DAY 5
I have tracked the beast to its lair, at great personal cost. My sisters believe me to be obsessed, and I cannot say they are wrong. I am obsessed, but with good reason. This monstrous creature, this Ravager, is unrelenting. And so must I be to hunt it down and end its depredations once and for all.

I did not start this hunt alone. Two of my sisters were at my side, as were our stalking beasts. Our pets were bold, but not stupid.
They soon began to resist us, sensing what we could not: this Ravager was no ordinary monster. Perhaps we should have heeded their unspoken demands, and turned back. If we had, my sisters and our pets would still be with me. But the infection set in soon after they started acting up, and indeed even then it was probably too late. If I hadn’t severed my own arm above the elbow, I would have been lost too.

I gave them a merciful death.
But they deserved better than to die in such agony. And so I swear I will not stand down. Though I have but one sword-arm, I will use it to strike the Ravager of Moldwood down, and soon.

It must be soon. For even now, I hear the beast calling to me through the remnants of infection in my blood. And its voice grows clearer.

Yes, today I kill two monsters. First, the Ravager. And then I will fall on my own blade. Goddess save me, it is the only way. I am sorry, Blademother. I am sorry.

Lore

[This free verse work appears to be the work of a long-dead Lifeweaver Pell mystic, written long before they became corrupted.]

Living world of sun of sky
Sing your songs of joy
Thriving life, burning strong
In the deep heart of this sacred sanctuary.

Loom of life and mysteries
Weave the songs of all
Into the sacred fabric
The divine web of existence.
Masters of sun and sky
Grant your Lifeweavers strength

Grant your Lifeweavers courage
Grant your Lifeweavers this song
This song of all things
For it is this song we weave into all things alive.