Blood-stained Note

[Drexyl N~drass]

Emptiness… My physical form destroyed, I had calculated that at least the hunger could not follow me into this cursed orb.
I was mistaken. I have no way of knowing exactly how large this prison is. I cannot see my hand before my own eyes, and there is no sensation, no breeze, just the lack of…
My presence here has at least afforded me some measure of clarity. I think back to the nights surrounded by my Coven; feeling as alone as I am now. They believed in me… they strived to please me… The foolishness of mortals. T'was not their fault.
Even amongst my own kind there is no companionship. I view my brothers and sisters with the same hatred as I do these mortals. I do not appreciate competition. I never have. Often I think of one I could tolerate. Unfortunately her work with those who considered me an enemy, made an alliance between us impossible. We never crossed blades, something I regret.
Endlessly I search for a way out of this horrid prison. I wonder constantly what the state of Andunor is, though I suppose it matters not. Should I break free I shall leave the city of Andunor forever. They have turned their back on me for the last time. The vision I had when I arrived there over a decade ago has long died. I have been branded a criminal, and it is time I embrace my title. Lord Bellafonte has been destroyed. My dream of unholy nobility leading the monsters of the dark against those who dwell beneath the sun was a failure.
I think back to something the Vaunted Freth asked me in private. "Do you want to be a great leader?" A common mistake among those around me. They know what I am, yet still interact with me as though I am able to "feel" as they do. The true answer to that question is difficult to articulate to a mortal, even a Drow. How do I tell her the question itself is invalid? It is the mortals role to die serving a higher purpose. They are blessed to lay down their lives for my wishes whatever they may be.
I have a new vision for my return. The political situation in the dark had taken my focus away from my work for my Lord Bhaal. For that I was punished.
I will break free, I will direct murders to empower the return of my lord. It has been written that he shall return. When he does my work will have earned my place as his undead avatar.
Often I think of the night of the party in Mourne Manor. Things seemed so much more clear then, however I cannot say I miss owning the Outpost. Playing ferryman got old fast. It did offer a great deal of opportunity though. The kidnapping and hostage exchange which led to some decent work with The Hunters Guild... I think when I break free I will chronical my time here thus far.. So much has happened... so much that will be forgotten if not preserved. On the chance that I am somehow destroyed for good, I must preserve my works for another to take up.
The time of my release draws near, and there is much work to do. *A dried and cracked wax seal is stamped on this parchment. It is that of a bat with outstretched wings, head facing left, surrounded by a ring of bloody tears.*