Betrayed

Locke and I... We've done a very horrible thing...

Yurla, her story -- all lies! She was a monster in disguise and forced us to do the most terrible thing we've ever done -- we killed an innocent life! She disguised herself as a feeble mother and took us in; she fed us and warmed herself up to us. We were so gullible. She told us that an evil man, Bront, had taken her baby when she was unable to pay her debts to him. We fell for it... Every single word.

We stormed his home, and killed his wife in cold blood. In our defense, Bront's wife was the first to attack... but we couldn't have known it was to protect the baby, which was truly her own! I'm so full of guilt and... I just don't know. I can't shake it. I was the one to finally hand the baby over -- merely to find that the Yurla we knew was truly an Ettercap in a clever dwarven disguise. She stole the baby and returned to her lair. I just couldn't believe it... I've never done something so heinous before in my life. And I feel so terrible inside...

Eventually, we rescued the baby with the help of Bront and returned them to their home. Bront was not happy and wanted to lock us away, but thanks to the real Yurla -- who was his sister -- we were simply banished from the town.

Unwelcome in Willow's Keep, and expelled from Tuli. What kind of heroes are we? The only place which welcomes us is Illias... Maybe we should simply give up on this quest... Maybe it is a waste of our time. Heroes -- what a pipe dream...

Locke, on the other hand, has taken this much more coolly than I have. Even though he was the one to strike the woman with the final killing blow, it doesn't even seem to phase him at all! But I suppose... Perhaps it is merely a facade to hide how he truly feels? Or maybe he is trying to help me feel better. Or...

Or perhaps he really is a heartless buffoon! Oh, I can't take it! I can't stand feeling this way! I feel so... confused.

Sigh. In any case, we are now camped far away from Tuli, shaded under a tree. It's raining again, and we have nothing but the cover of our bedrolls to protect us. What dreaded luck. Oh, book... I can not possibly imagine what tomorrow may bring, but whatever it is -- I hope it's better than this!

In the mean time, I'll try to cheer up, I suppose. I have to be strong -- strong like Locke.