On the Carrion Child, Acerlous Carrion
[An Ilsabardian Rumour]An Ilsabardian Rumour
In the freezing Garlean outskirts, the taverns talk of many fairy tales. Powerful wizards that would steal you away in the night, everlasting dragons that could swallow you whole, and the Carrion Child.
The story of the Carrion Child goes, that she was orphaned at a young age after a Ceruleum incident killed her family. She was left to fend for herself in the frozen snow of Northern Ilsabard. Having nothing to her name but her father's farming scythe and the clothes on her back, she would reap the head of every Garlean that would dare cross her path in revenge.
They say that she never received the formal training of Garlean Reapers, where they would reach into the void itself to make a powerful pact with those devils.
While she can slice and gibbet with such ferocity and anger, its not enough for her. She searches for a way to talk to a powerful voidsent, one thats worthy enough to make a pact with. Worthy enough to become her shadow, and fufill her dreams.
Her Present:
As a deadly, isolated terrorizer of Garleans, how would she end up in this society? She's following a cycle.
The Garleans once started as a small farming community and so too will their empire begin humbly.
She will take a different path to the same end, pursuing more peaceful relations with others. Attemping actions that will be karmic in nature. Kind-hearted and peaceful.
That kingdom would fall in time, as they always do, but the cycle dictates it would be far, far after her time anyway.
Great power is what she needs now, the next step in her cycle, the blood magic they offer is good, but not enough.
To truly smash the cycle into pieces, she needs ultimate power.
Her Hopes:
She believes that she knows one thing for certain, that life is cyclical. From sunrise to sunset, from birth to death, and from sowing to reaping. Anything going anywhere will eventually end up right back where it began to start over.
If you look close enough, theres a pattern. Everything follows similar cycles, and using this you can make every prediction one needs for the future.
Around and around the carousel spins.
It makes her furious.
It makes her fucking mad.
All of us, trapped in a cycle of rebirth, of reincarnation. Souls enter the lifestream eternal just to be born again.
Trapped in pain and suffering just to go on with the next day, the sun always rises the sun always sets. It all turns to dull gray.
It's all been done before.
She will not indulge stagnation, she will find her way out, to end this.
Breaking free only requires following a path thats final. She needs power to ensure that.
Her Dreams:
Ace was haunted by a dream, ever since she was young.
In it she was a master of scavenging, of being nimble, being dexterous.
It's all in survival.
She saw it all and still went on. To die only to be reborn. So many hibernations, so much death, so much rebirth, it was truly unescapable.
The dreamself found new family. To try and bring a new cycle upon beasts, of peace and tranquility.
Only to be rejected, to have bloody murder happen. To have such great tragedy in her heart.
To be rejected as a leader, to leave thier home up to fate. There was no home here anymore.
Leaving the family, going elsewhere, to ascend one last time, a final time.
This would be her aspiration, for as long as she lived.
It's her turn on the cycle. Aren't you excited?
A Secret:
The grave is no bar to my call.
For I am, of course, the original, the once and for all, king of beasts, monsters whatever you may call yourselves.
I do hold a power over you still.
You have all seen how this “game” of ours has gone.
such high hopes… for peace, for pacifism, but…
All killers.
everyone voted for violence. I should have expected that.
You failed me, you understand?
murderers, lunatics, traitors, amidst all of you.
there is no winning here with peace.
A false hope from a false prophet, you might say.
winning with hard rule and the use of power.
sometimes you must take drastic measures to get what you want
You won’t really see the outcome of this story, now will you?
I, of course, am not free of guilt either.
Oh, what have I become?
weep