Many Moons has past since the destruction of Slevic, and my dark work had begun. It feels like ages since I began my trek to find him, the leader of the scum that stole from me everything I knew, family, friends, youth and innocence. I wonder sometimes if my methods are unsound, criminal even. How can I hunt those that killed and worse, when I too deal out death as though I were an agent of God. I make no delusions, I am what I am, hell bound, but to uphold the law is a thankless job.
I stir the dying embers of the fire in the twilight of dawn, preparing for another day of the hunt. I check my bow and quiver first, twelve arrows left. my supplies are low, and my water won't last the day. No matter, Tunkin forest has a stream... somewhere.... MY steel is still sharp and prepared to drink blood once more. The bandit I found on the road said they would take the Tunkin road to get to the Arkinnon plains. I string up my pouch, sheath my blade, notch an arrow and begin my eerie trek into Tunkin woods.
I will quest for you Qualkenook, quest into the depths of hell if I must to seek my revenge.