[!] The following letter would be spread through the span of Eden via paid couriers, with the original copy being sent to the Reichsmarshall's Office in Adelsburg [!]
THIS DAY,
Moonday 17, Rainswrath, 1556 FIRST BURN
Eden has known the threat of the traitor Konrad von Drachenfels for sometime, first taking Lunburg following the demise of Zladimir de Tiri. He would go on to inspire rebellion and align himself towards treason against the sitting Kaiser and Kaiserin. He assisted and helped to lead the Nachtbruderschaft which quickly fell to ruin under his guidance. He failed in his responsibilities as Markgraf and as the former Reichsmarshall, being replaced in both offices soon enough by men more befititng of service. Among his many grevious faults, my quarrel began with his release of information that was not his to give out. Doing such caused me great trouble and would be the firstburn among a few which would see me displaced from my home and regular work. This quarrel has since ended with the death of Konrad von Drachenfels at my hand.
This message goes out to those who he disaffected in Eden, alerting you to the news that the traitor is dead. He was found lurking... hiding in the forests near the Empire's northern border, close to the Bone Lord's encampment. It was there he was found and killed, and with him goes his failed legacy and name, now turned to ash. Expect what underlings that were with him (and subsequently escaped) will attempt to take on his name- they are pretenders. The true threat is gone. My condolences goes out to his fomer wife, Lady Anna-Carina, who dealt with him from servitude as a castle maid to being bound to him through Alder. May she find some peace in this news. To others wishing for his death for his actions against you, you're welcome. In this, his truth is revealed in death and laid plainly before you, yet others and their actions remain hidden from the public view, others who have caused similar burns. Expect me soon.
Leaning against the trunk of a gnarled oak, deep in the shadowed woods, Konrad sat in the long embrace of twilight. Shadows chased across the forest floor as trees strained against the relentless pull of the wind.Konrad felt cool air rise and fall across his skin like the next anxious breath he was yet to draw. He had waited and watched, and now he pushed time away and moved into this moment. He would have no pruning of thoughts, no snares that could catch him and block his way. For a few moments longer, he would remain as he had for so long, a solitary figure in the dark—a bird, a rare one, with dark, secret feathers.
For a brief instant, relief flowed through him. It was a perfect fiction—a decoy of sorts—that someone had set in place without his knowledge. It allowed him the cover of death while simultaneously destroying the enemy's perception of him. Kindness, intended or not, had birthed a means for him to disappear—free and clear, no questions asked. The prospect should have set him at ease. Instead, it filled him with rage.
"Truth," he murmured, as if to try out the weight of the word. It had been the bedrock upon which he'd built everything and made choices in the name of righteousness—he'd even paid the ultimate price when that had been required. But what was truth, really? The Empire, with its mendacity and subterfuge, had twisted it into some sort of mean game that had momentary effects but no lasting value. The tortuous falsehoods he read on this parchment, the screwing around with good and pretty loyal folks that he'd once trusted, the nice night in which an awful lot of his family had been shafted and sent so far down the rabbit hole that it couldn't find its way back—these were not any kind of truth he could uphold. They were so many bad (damnable) lies. And now, as he'd decided not too long ago, the time had come to call them out and take vengeance for those lives they had wallowed in and for the evening they had cut short.
With eyes shut tight, he let the laughter rise up from deep in his chest. Not very far up, since it was too bitter and hollow to rise much at all. "A man filled with justice," he whispered. "What is that now but a ghost? A shadow condemned to haunt those deserving it most."
Konrad opened his eyes. The forest around him seemed darker than before. He gripped the parchment so tightly that it tore, and the jagged edges fell to the ground like discarded ideals. There was to be no peace for him, no waiting for the world to right itself while he sat in some kind of "solace." In our politically charged times, it is hard to see how the next world may appear different from the present one.
"I will come back," he said, his voice now steady, with a cold determination that wrapped around him like armor. "Not as the man I was, but as the reckoning they will come to fear. I will make them account for every lie, every betrayal, every hurt they have ever inflicted on anyone. Before the end, they will feel all those things."
He looked to the north, toward the Empire, which was now nothing but a festering sore on the world he had once dedicated himself to protect. His lips lifted into a smirk, but this time it was devoid of any semblance of humor. It was a grim promise that was now etched into his expression. Let them celebrate his death. Let them take pleasure in what they think is their victory. The real Konrad von Drachenfels is alive and well, and one day too damn soon, they will wake up and remember that.
