Introducing Sleepless Nights
The page is ripped, and covered in drawings of things that do not make sense, creatures with too many limbs, teeth, formless things that are mere smudges of charcoal, and something with long teeth and two right hands. However there is an legible passage written in frantic writing, raindrops and ink staining it.
Let me ask you something.
What do you know about demons?
Not much, I bet. Can’t say I blame you.
Maybe you didn’t know what we called them before.
Trapped between this earth and the abyss, servants of the gods, shepherds of men.
Children of Asmodeus.
Maybe it was that phrase that drove them to become what they did.
I don’t know, I don’t think they do either.
Your priests tell you that this world was made for you, by your god.
And that’s not a lie, but what they don’t tell you,
Is that we had to fight for it.
So let me ask you this then,
What do you know about adventurers?
There are other names for us.
Those aren’t lies either.
We’re not soldiers, we’re whores, selling our bodies, time and talent to the highest bidder.
We’re in-between grave-robbers and prostitutes in terms of respectability.
We’re the ones you close your door on when we wander in, wounded, broken.
We’re the ones you read about that killed a pregnant woman because her baby was going to come out cursed and demonic and twisted because of a prophecy from a dusty old tomb no-one remembers.
We’re the ones who go mad, die young and face down the blade of the executioner while sipping on stolen wine, wearing the clothes of the last man we killed, his blood still on our blade.
We’re the ones who will never apologize, never surrender, and never grow old.
But we serve a purpose,
We take the jobs that no-one else will do.
The things that can’t be found, we find.
The beasts that can’t be slain, we slay.
Or do our best.
You’d think that’d earn us a little respect, a little more coin.
Course you’d be wrong.
Still, we try to get by, stick together when we can.
We take what jobs we can,
We get paid.
And if we don’t?
We get even.
That’s why we’re here in Starsong.
Where gods battle.
Steel is stronger than flesh.
Gold more precious than blood.
Gold and steel.
Flesh and blood.
Story of our damned lives.
As to how we got here, together?
That’s a longer story.
I’d tell you I’ve seen worse than this,
That we’d make it out safe.
But if you don’t believe me,
Can’t say I blame you.
But we’re the 22, and we’re real fucking good.