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Mutilation
* Strolling through the inn quarters, you find a letter on the bedside of Guthrie's room. You pick up the letter and begin to read. *
Mother,
It has been years now since the attack on our island. Years since the orcs decimated our people, and burnt our land to oblivion. After the experiences I have had here in the north, I feel some sympathy for the orcs, lifting a great burden off of my hatred for your murderers.
Mere days ago, on the night of the new moon, I was satisfying my everlasting thirst for flames. I was, however, unaware that these flaming bones I stole from the corpses of Cora's people would feed the fire my own hatred, making it grow and engulf my body in bloodlust. Hatred in the form of a fire. A fire fed by my unhealthy thirst.
The fire enveloped my being until my skin and outer organs were engulfed in flames. Most of them were deemed unusable. Luckily, a friend by the name of Geod managed to grab me and carry me to a lake, dousing my body in mud. The mud seeped into my bone and muscles, using the extreme temperature of my own self to transform the gooey substance into my new skin. I was saved, but the mutilation and torture this brought upon me transformed my physical and mental being into a completely new one.
I was now what I always feared and hated most. I was a corrupted elf, or as the great wizard Tolkein named centuries past, an orc.
The new being took my thirst for blood and increased it exponentially. I have been transformed into a savage beast of war, ready to kill with the slightest provocation. My skin serves as a warning for others by itself, molten green and brown, sickeningly mutilated.
However, being saved by Geod, I now owe him a life debt. His heroic deed has put me under complete loyalty of Valestan. Sickening as it may be, I truly hope to fight for him, for my bloodthirst increases by the day, as my body takes on the full effects of the flame I set upon myself.
Your loving son,
Guthrie
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