I play video games. Sometimes I play a lot of video games. So I starting
thinking how the video game must look from the inside to the characters.
Inspired by that, and some of the worst writing from the Punisher comics,
I present “Alekto’s War Journal.”
War Journal, Day 1 – Finally, the day has come. I have achieved the level
of skill and discipline to go forth into the dark world and hunt demons
to extinction. I am filled with burning hatred for those loathsome
creatures, but I will not hesitate to slay any evil that crosses my path.
As an aside, while I do not embark on my quest in the hope of finding
fortune, I do hope I can find some money or useful items since I only own
one outfit, and years of use have reduced the armor value to nearly
nothing. But I must not let such potential vulnerability delay me. I
venture forth to that festering pit of despair – New Tristam!
War Journal, Day 5 – I have arrived at the crossroads of darkness. The
only lodgings are in the Slaughtered Calf Inn. Are these people cursed by
a permanent feeble-mind spell? Old Tristam, that hamlet of the damned, is
but a few miles away. Surely the survivors of the demon invasion would
want to be farther away from the former site of a Hellmouth than a
leisurely stroll? And to give the only inn such a name? It’s as though
they are begging for another demonic uprising. It is good for these
people I am not risking my life for their sake; I am risking my life to
slay demons for the good of all, even the apparently stupid. Also at the
inn are three other strangers to town who desire to cleanse the world of
evil – a crusader, a wizard, and a monk. I realize monks shun material
possessions, but I am surprised to see the other two appear as hampered
by inferior gear as I am. Perhaps the chances of success will be greater
if we join forces.
War Journal, Day 6 – It was the crusader who suggested linking our fates.
I have no objection to someone else rushing forward and drawing the
damage. As it happened, we had a chance to prove our strength as some
zombies attempted yet again to break down the gate. The zombies were of
course no match for us, but the crossfire was quite alarming. I do not
think that marksmanship was part of the cirrculum at the wizard’s school.
Granted, I do not rush forward, but I do not wish for the crusader and
monk’s usefulness to be cut short by a poorly-aimed lightning bolt. It
seems the crusader shares my concern, for she said she would pray this
night for our protection. I have no faith in any gods in these cursed
times, but perhaps some protection from friendly fire could give me a
nudge in that direction.