Something to remind you

We’re about to enter a cursed city. Home of “uncivilized” vampires, even by the denizen’s of Loec’s standards. I hear tell that a piece of the Father of Monsters I’ve been collecting is being used in conjunction with one of Rowan’s guardian trees to do.. something. I forget what. My mind has been.. unfocused since I saw Henry again.
 
On our way, there was a chapel of sorts. A Chapel of Guilt, they called it. They offered to let you bathe in the waters within and be absolved of your sins. Needing a bath anyways, I partook of their offer of “forgiveness” for a chance to bathe in the hot spring that was there. When I stepped in, the steam from the water seemed to overtake me, and I was separated from Rowan and Inira whom I came with. Then, I saw them. The shadows of the Butchers. The souls of those unable to leave this place and make it to the other side, for the curse keeps their spirits and bars their way. Henry was there, looking for me. I found as I approached him that he could see me. He was wandering the Fugue, he said. And that something in the shadows stalks them there, ripping apart their spirits. A claim that was echoed by the three Sorrows who guards he Hill of Suicides. I almost drew my blade against my allies this day. The Sorrows were keeping those who sacrificed themselves on the Hill from going to the Fugue Plane, where I now know a creature sundering the souls of those wandering there from this curse exists. But I stayed my hand. I have a feeling Inara will feel I betrayed her. Her wrath is something I will have to endure. I will explain when I can.
 
We have taken camp outside of this cursed city with Gerard and his allies, in preparation for our trek within. I don’t trust these men, as I do not trust Gerard himself - a man who believes he needs another’s power to reclaim his former strength of a Paladin. The very idea of it spits in the face of what it means to be a Paladin. The strength of one’s oath is not where a Paladin derives their strength from. It is something you pull from within. The concept seems lost on him, I feel, and my party seems more than willing to accept his help for now. This feeling reminds me of the old days with the Butchers, when we’d have to sleep with one eye open.
 
There was a song we used to sing among the men back in those days. It was written by a bard who came into our ranks after he was arrested for gods-know-what. Probably for just being a bard, if I had to guess. But.. it will likely be the man’s greatest work. It resounded with us all, and I still recall it now just as vividly as I did in my youth…
 
0/^~ So this is it
I say goodbye
To this chapter of my ever-changing life
And there's mistakes
The path is long
And I'm sure I'll answer for them when I'm gone
 
So when the day comes and
The sun won't touch my face
Tell the ones who cared enough
That I finally left this place
That's been so cold
Look at my face
All the stories it will tell I can't erase
The road is long
Just one more song
A little something to remind you when I'm gone
When I'm gone
 
The road to hell
Along the way
Is paved with good intentions so they say
And some believe
That no good deed
Goes unpunished in the end or so it seems
 
So when the day comes and
The sun won't touch my face
Tell the ones who care enough
That I finally left this place
That's been so cold
Look at my face
All the stories it will tell I can't erase
The road is long
Just one more song
A little something to remind you when I'm gone
When I'm gone
 
So this is it
I say goodbye
To this chapter of my ever-changing life
And there's mistakes
The path was long
And I'm sure I'll answer for them when I'm gone
When I'm gone… o/^~