There was once a man whose whole life resolved around tragedy, fear and misfortune.
Evil clouded around and picked apart everything good and pure he ever knew
Every step he took something else failed, every action he would falter and worsen the situation.
Watching helplessly as everyone he cared for didn’t go quietly into the darkness as he blamed everything else in the world for his suffering.
The father who infected his soul with poison, the monsters who constantly hounded his every waking moment.
The broken, callous world he could never stabilize with an ounce of purity as he allowed it to twist and manipulate his soul into something broken.
A broken desperate man who inflicted his pain and suffering upon others to find that sliver of hope and peace.
Yet it wasn’t until he hit rock bottom that he finally had that epiphany, that maybe it wasn’t the patriarch that infected his life with darkness.
Maybe it wasn’t the monsters that chipped away at his sanity or the world that trapped him inside a bubble of hatred.
Maybe, just maybe everything he lost, every piece of him that slipped through his hands and led to such a miserable existence.
Was his own damn fault.
And from where I’m standing Curze, you’re just another cautionary tale of a monster who needs to be put in his place before it’s too late.
The great Night Haunter, the child left to survive in a pocket of darkness who now inflicts pain, suffering and untold terror upon all those who dare walk his path
A being who claims to want to bring peace and safety to the Bleak yet the innocent are nothing but pawns to help you keep the demons at bay.
A territorial child whose interest only peaked into the world outside his bubble when another person dared to play with his toys.
But did you ever think the possibility this Vixen stole away your people not by force, but by choice because they can’t stand the hell you inflict upon them?
Our circumstances couldn’t be more different, you grew up in absolute hell, I was raised in relative peace and Arcadia has taught us very different lessons.
But you’re not the only one who’s suffered, who has felt this world try and squeeze every last drop of hope out of them.
The Bleak is a terrifying, broken place because men like you ensure it remains so.
My father tried to change it once but every single time he gave them hope, you snuffed it out with your never ended tirade for silence.
And now I finish the story and show Arcadia what this world can truly be by making the Bleak a shining example of a better world.
Because it doesn’t matter what knocks you down, it’s what you do when you get up that counts.
And Mannfred your way of violence and fear has never worked. So it doesn’t matter what the Vixen does because the Bleak will never be a place for men like you again.
As I give it’s people Faith they never knew existed.