Among the Papers of EB is found scrawled in blood and blotted with dirt this poem. Scratched upon the back of some waxed paper. It is scrawled in fine handwriting, but lacks the depth of a trained writer.
The world is not kind to me. Woe it is anything but
I am lost among the seas of whips and tears
Shall I ever be free?
Guilded halls, I run from thee, sister at my heel
To live a life, kind and free
Is All I ever did seek
Yet here I am dead again
Risen once more
The stars did come, they did leave
Etching pain across my mind
Will I ever know what freedom is?
I try to run, I try to flee
Please just let me be
Cruel Drow Priestess makes me miss
My sisters whips blistering kiss
