The cool, light dew that appears before dawn makes my garments heavy with moisture, dampening my cloak. The flagstones are obscured by a cover of fog. And the Gods whisper…

Helpless realization can be more cruel than ignorance sometimes. It only gets more and more cruel. And to think, it was all for the sake of finding the path that leads to sainthood…

The fog refuses to disperse. It hides and conceals our intentions, our dark thoughts and secret desires.

The soft footsteps stop.

There is no time to cry out. There is no time to weep. The penetrating blade has already done its work. And the warmth fades…

***

We all have our sins. Each of us has different sins. Everyone is guilty of something.

But I have the power to decide who lives and who dies. Who is justified, and who should be condemned. And sentenced to eternal sleep, the endless repose.

Arguments and debates – words – will solve nothing in this dark, endless night that now faces us. It will bring us no solution. I will seal your lips for you. It is your only redeeming grace now.

Everyone in your way, blocking your path, is a wrongdoer. It is too late for regrets. There is no turning back.

To judge and pass sentence in the name of Sigmar… that feeling is indescribable.

It is to laugh and cry at the same time. To stare, fixedly, into complete and absolute blackness. And all the while knowing that the sin that ends other sins, the tragedy that ends all tragedies, is making me weaker, making me… intoxicated…

Bow down your head, kiss my left hand
In exchange for the promise of mercy and forgiveness
(The organ in the corner
Keeps playing its accompaniment on and on and on)

The black curtain flaps in the wind, and the sunlight streams in silently
Spreading out towards the herd of beasts that I have tamed

Silent cries… silent screams… the loneliness is beginning to ferment. Endlessly laughing at me… mocking me. Ceaseless… laughing…

Memory burns, slowly burning away. In that memory, that picture I have in my mind, that which was once pure and innocent, a kind of brutal tenderness has appeared.

The moment of weakness has come upon me.

Let us pray now.

Oh merciful Sigmar, benevolent protector
I have fallen
I cannot see the magnitude of my sins
Have mercy on me, forgive my self-pity!

No one can say… no one could say
How hard the tribulations I have suffered
The path to glory is paved with solitude

Closing my eyes, once again I see
Past the veil of time, into that dream so long ago
The sky was black with clouds and fog

And Father was holding my hands
As we walked along
On that quiet, serene flagstone path
In the approaching dawn

***

I cleaned the family crest last night. Polished it to a shine. As it gleamed in the light of the solitary candle, a lonely radiance in the room, I finally understood something.

The candle flame never stopped wavering… never stopped flickering…

An owl perched briefly on the window beam, gazing into the unknown distance.

The corridor that I walk down now has many stories to tell… but it is mute. It cannot speak of its past, the ghosts that haunt this place are silent.

There is nothing to break the tranquility of this place now.

Slowly I lay myself down. Slowly, I drift into unconsciousness, feeling my grip on this world finally slipping. At last.

The dawn is breaking.

i don't get it... :blink: :unsure:

Yep has me totally baffled too.

Sounds like fluff for a wraith to me...?

I think I've got it... it's a vampire, right? And he's living in his big empty mansion, and he's gone mad with the loneliness... and then he commits suicide by standing in the sun. Am I right?

I think its something along those lines, by the sound of things. Very poetic, Derfel, but methinks we're needing an explanation on what exactly all that was about!

Cheers,
DLJ

Oh, and so it is. I should read things more carefully.

But hen how can it be fluff if they guy is dead dead?

By fluff, I think he just meant creative writing concerned with WH.

I agree with chilli. Maybe it should be moved to the story section

No its a "Fluff concept" what ever that is. I am sure there is a point or spark of genious in their, I am justa little too blind to see it.

I have it. A diary entry from his vampire. Cool when you think about it

Alright alright :) I'll come clean.

It's actually a direct line-by-line translation, with grammar corrections, of a Chinese rap song, that's in fact about the Godfather movie trilogy. I took the song, translated the lyrics, and adapted them to fit this blooming idea I had about a vampire of some sort...

here's the low-down...

This guy, used to be quite devout in his faith, had his entire family killed by vampire teenage rebels out for a night of fun, and turned Witch Hunter. He got Embraced though, but his thirst for vengeance is so strong that he never lost his soul to the dark side or whatever. He continues his vendetta until he kills the last vampire responsible for the tragedy.

Then he realizes, there's really nothing left to live for. He is a condemned creature in the eyes of all that's good and holy, and he's sinned so much that he can hardly hope to be forgiven (by his own harsh standards, that is). The loneliness of his existence is eating into his soul, and he fears this will eventually break his mind and turn him into one of the ruthless killers he despises.

So he returns to his old family mansion, and lays down on a bed, with a window facing east fully open. And he waits for the dawn.

quite but how can that be fluff for your army if he is dead?

Yea vampires are not dead or so I thought. More potentially imortal beings that have to drink man blood to survive.

It isn't fluff for my army. It's just fluff :)

It all sounds very Blade to me.

Anyways, I'm going to move this piece over to the Stories forum. Methinks it will make more sense for it to be over there, as it is just confusing me at the moment :P

Cheers,
DLJ