I looked over the street then. The sheer carnage was overwhelming. Bodies were stacked around me and Pa’Koth. I heard Li’Non crying softly and patted his head with a blood spattered hand.
The enemy dead. It was hard to tell friend from foe. Some of the enemy were monsters, it is true. Many more, in death, were simply Narn. No different from any that fought at my side.
Except these had been willing to die to kill me. Why me? I am not important, no matter what Pa’Koth says. I am not a Warrior. I am not great. It is such a waste.
There were so many dead around us that we were pulled from the masses. I have already heard stories of the battle. You would understand G’Quan to be twice the height of myself, tearing monsters apart with his bare hands, calling the very gods to do his bidding.
It appears that a second G’Quan exists now. Perhaps he came into being when I called the people to war. I do not trust this new G’Quan. He will overtake and kill me in the end I fear.
I should be reveling in our victory, but the sight of so many dead for so little reason saddens me. The Darkness gone – that is something to celebrate. But the cost, the cost was high.
Few of the MindWalkers survive. The irony is that in this battle they were not even necessary. This was a battle of brute force and perseverance. My forces were just as able to hew flesh as the great Warrior and his ka’toc.
Many of the Lost lay dead at my feet. Young Narn whose lives were over before they began. This is my true legacy.
The city is large and must have once been bustling. I may support that many who lived here were Narn. Collaborators like Tza’Vin. There will be more deaths as collaborators are found and killed. I fear the Darkness has dealt a blow to Nar’Shal from which it may never recover.
Why did the Darkness come here? Why did they leave?
Why did they kill my people? Hundreds of thousands of Narn lie dead. Entire villages, towns and cities. My home. The beautiful Valley in which I grew to manhood. My family. My temple.
My people lost so much. For what?