3. John's Journal - Guilty Conscience

John's Journal - Guilty Conscience


  • Mother and Father argue constantly. I think he was afraid I'd hit him when he asked me to do it. I know he's right, but gone for good? At least he gave me some gold. What an idiot. I can't believe she killed them, all of them. I can't take the blame this time, damn girl is out of control. We leave tonight.

    ~

    I can't tell her. Ever. She'd kill me, or I'd kill her. God, why do I even think like that. That I could kill my own sister, even as a fantasy in my own mind. I can't believe she went blonde, I can't believe she wasted our money on cosmetics. Imagine being so concerned over her going blonde when I've done something far more terrible to her.

    ~

    What a city, apples cost more than a jug of ale and horses cost more than houses. Must be good horses. Can't say much about the apples, or the ale. At least a man can find his whiskey at the docks, and the girls don't even care about [a few words are simply scribbled out]. Can't find Lacey anywhere. Probably whoring. I can't believe I can even say it, I hope she isn't.

    ~

    I can't put into words what happened. I tried to tell Lacey but the words didn't make sense. I can't help it. It hurts to think about it. Inside, it hurts inside. The Gatekeeper, in His place? Why would he even ask. Is that what happens when we die? Is it what happens when I die? It hurts so bad. I cried, he shamed me where I stood. I felt I wanted to kill him or shut him up, I just wanted him to be quiet. I was compelled to answer him. I don't know who's hand guided it thus, but here I find myself living, breathing, drinking, killing - as though it never happened. Lacey cried too, I feel sorry for her. God, she's been through so much. Why he should spare me.

    ~

    Damn that girl! She wants me to [words are scribbled out by an angry hand]

    My sister asked me to be more approachable. I'm sick to my stomach, a murderer, a thief, a whore telling me to be more approachable. Am I so wretched? Maybe I am. Maybe my [a word is scribbled out] - my accident has robbed me of the spirit to be spoken to. People just stare, and ask such questions. It's maddening. They don't know how it is to live behind a shroud. I hate them all, them and their vanity. Why should I [the rest of the page is inked out]


  • Idiot sis is in jail. Don't even know why, don't care to ask. Been spending my time and coin in the Ferret. Place is starting to feel bad, might need to find a new drinking hole.

    ~

    Sis is still in jail, so was I. Some daft arse in Norwick decided to pick a fight, happens to be a guard or something. Not worried though - took five of them together to take me down. Got released early, bastards finally realised I hadn't done a damn thing I guess. Think I'll tell Sis, she might do something about it.

    ~

    Been wandering around lately looking for a new tavern. Places in Peltarch are a bit shite, Norwicks guards don't want me around. Fair enough, their inns a hole anyway.

    ~

    Vladimir says sis gets out of jail soon, not sure why I haven't been to see her in there. Still don't know why she's in either. Went on a job with Vlad and his Bear-whatever. Load of shite, got a helmet and some bolts. Going to have to bring up the payment with him sometime, not doing this crap for free.


  • Damn Lacey, she's keeping something from me. I don't know what but she's being too quiet. There's something going on, any other day I might just scare it out of her. These days, I'm not sure I even want to know.

    ~

    What have I done? All those men, dead. How many died by my sword? Two, maybe three? I wept as they passed. A monster, that's all I am. It was that stupid Dwarf, and that other idiot luring me down into the city sewers. Right from the beginning it was just death, men dying. Probably no better than I at that. The remorseless two, all I feel ~ pity.

    ~

    I dyed that tin-suit my sister bought for me, looks like I might have to scratch it down and start again. Seems the City Defenders wear a similar green, who knew? I think Lacey was upset when she saw I'd wasted my coin on it, should've sla[the ink here is smudged out, and dragged across the line]. Idiot.


  • I've been drinking in the Lucky Ferret again. It's just like being back home, in a way. It's hard to look at the vastness of the great lake and not be reminded of the sea, the coast of home. All I can do is raise a glass to home, and drown my sorrows.

    ~

    I'm such an idiot. Why does it always come out like that, what's wrong with me? She was just asking a question. I am a monster. I don't deserve what I have. I wish [ink appears to be smeared across a few lines, perhaps by the author's thumb].

    ~

    I'm drinking in the Lucky Ferret. Seems lonely but never quiet. I like it here, I can always smell the food from the kitchen from where I sit. The whiskey isn't bad. Sis bought me a suit of armour, damned plate armour - I couldn't believe it. I checked the back for piercings and bloodstains, I think it came out her own pocket. Fits nice too, I think she's trying to tell me something.