To my Beloved,

I have sinned this last forum. My Lady knows of my sin, and now you will as well.

It was in Forum, when the sun was rising. A siege was occurring from the forces of Jarl Overturner, cruel men with bile in their hearts and a wish to do harm to the good people. While war makes dogs the simplest of men, these men were wolves that were devouring all people, not just soldiers. They kidnapped emissaries, stabbed soldiers and even my friend Staccato D’Castille.

One of these men somehow got past my defenses and took a sprint towards my Lady. I saw through the blood in his eyes that he wanted nothing more than to hurt her, that nothing would stop him. Even after downed, they continued to rise up through pure malice and grit to strike again, and I would not let that happen! I took flight after him, my feet pounding against the ground to close the distance! I saw him clamber up onto the porch and I could not see Olivia, I could not see Sir Rowland. I did not know if my Lady, my best friend, was in danger!

Fear consumed me. It gripped me like death, and before I knew it my blade was slicing through the neck of this man, killing the soldier even while he was downed. I should not have doubted, Sir Rowland was, and is, a truly incredible knight. But I was afraid.

As the blood dripped down onto the ground, staining the porch that previously only held memories of merriment… I felt guilt. Guilt for cutting down a man who had a family, who could have had love.

I immediately sought atonement, but the guilt still clings to me like the winter rain here in Runeheim. While I know that by my Lady’s words I am not to kill, I know that if her life was on the line in that same way again….I do not know if I could act differently. I strive to be better, to offer mercy like Benalus, but when those who I truly love are on the line I find myself to struggle with the teachings of our Lord.

I will focus my attention on Saint Istra, whose proverbs resound with my inner turmoil: “The blade, God’s most sacred tool. With it, a mere man can control fate. The blade can end life and give it back. It can create and destroy, the fulcrum of time and destiny. Yet I knew not if the blade or action was truly mine. Is the blade an extension of me, or am I wielded by it? There is a mindlessness in practiced action. And in the aftermath of these times, I would gaze upon the work that my hands had wrought and wondered who had actually guided me.”

My atonement will be my forgiveness, and I do not expect Benalus or you to see me as the Knight I yearn to be until I complete my task.

Forever yours,
Lorelei