Cecile, white hare of Libra

## Cecile

*"Few things can push one individual to heroism and incredible feats as loss. Loss of love, loss of future, any loss will do provided it leaves scars deep enough. Once you hate someone or something strongly enough you might discover within you powers you never knew you had. A thirst that can only be sated by vengeance. I've lost everything I ever had, my past, my future, all those whom I ever loved. I am an avenger, a vessel fueled by spite and vengeful desire. Be it here or in the afterlife... I will make all of those responsible and all those related to them pay for this. Sweet vengeance is a treacherous meal though... taste to much of it and soon enough you get addicted and just can't get enough anymore."*

*- Cecile, On the powers of vengeful hatred, 7th of Calistril, 55 IA*

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## Biography

Cecile lived and died during 55 IA first as a villager then as an adventurer. She met her demise at the hands of a lich of the ghostlands though this did not end her crusade against undeads and dragons of all kind. Cecile was 21 years old at the date of her death and rebirth as a Shirokuto.

## Notable Events

### Remembrance

*"It is with great yet necessary suffering that I write this journal so that should I ever forget my duty, be it by time or by detachment, I can remember where I came from and for whom I fight.*

*The gods have forsaken Libra… Erastil watched our community crumble from the inside, Pharasma now looks upon my people with disgust, and It's only a matter of time before the inheritor, now far too late, comes barging in to wage war with her armies against what's left of the land's original inhabitants. Perhaps the only deities amused by this tragic story are Calistria and most of all Urgatoa with whom I want no relationship yet now perhaps share a forced bargain. I'm spiteful of the gods, I only feel rage for necromancers, I hate dragons but more than anything I hate what I've become. Spite is all that holds me together now defying death doors forevermore so that I can visit vengeance unending upon those responsible for this.*

*Libra was always a land of pleasant albeit cold snow. While Libra was a small kingdom its governance was its own and with no real resource to wage war over no major ruler was interested into governing it. We'd grow our crops despite this using every trick we had including underground gardens or during the brief summer when the land would temporarily be warm enough. Life was harsh but we were used to it. I can remember Miss Patty regularly doing her fabled hare meat pie, I was really fond of it. Hare meat pie was my favorite which is why back home the folks would regularly make the joke that if I hate too much of it I'd eventually become one calling me the white hare of Libra for my speed and skill at hunting them down even in the middle of winter when their coats vanishes in the snow… Ah jokes on them now. Regardless, Miss Patty was my dad's direct neighbor and a good friend I would spend much time with when off work. As a member of the city militia my job was to fight off potential invaders. Libra, while inhospitable, was still home to packs of winter wolves and its denizens had to learn how to fight them back whenever necessary… with fire and projectiles. I joined the watch very young too but that's a different story. There was this kid Michael who would stare at us protecting the town like we were superheroes. It still brings me back a sincere albeit sad smile. To him we were the invincible protectors of the village and he kept telling us that when he'd be older he dreamed of being just like us. I spent my time lecturing him about going too far out of the village swinging about that wooden sword of his against some imaginary monsters. I can still remember him saying to everyone that all would be right and we'd protect them. His honest and carefree smile haunts me to this day. Did I fail him or were the events that would lead to this day inevitable? My sister Rachelle too had an unshakable faith into us protecting the village, was this faith misplaced? Come to think of it, I should write about her too. Rachelle was my younger sister by only a pair of springs but always acted like she was older then me expressing a maturity I envied her for. She'd regularly remind me to think out of the box, I wasn't just a part of the watch but also a part of this village too. Instead of obsessing over the town security I should spend more time looking for a potential husband and planning my eventual marriage otherwise I would become that one old woman who never married or got kids. I always replied to her that I didn't have time for this nonsense but truth be told that's just because I was too shy to admit I was in deep love with my watch buddy Flint. We had grown together, trained together and now we worked together but neither him nor I had the guts to confess… Well that is up to just until before he died. I almost hated him for having taken this long to tell what deep down we both knew and with him passing on the loss only felt even worse. I spend most of my awake time hugging his tomb now. Perhaps it's futile, it's not like a stone slab will ever make up for the warmth and love we never would be able to share.*

*Hunting made for a large amount of our community food supply. As a member of the watch I also handled hunting in the woods though I was not alone on this job as other members of the watch would join me in food gathering on the regular I still remember fondly of that last deer we caught my teammate wouldn't stop joking about how the poor thing fell into the net trap in the most stupid ways which reminded him of me somehow getting entangled into a net at night time and nearly ripping off my leather armor to get free. I punched him in the shoulder that day because I absolutely wasn’t into whatever weird stuff he was but eh we backwater folks need to make jokes once in a while to keep the mood merry when working.*

*Our village had an Inn though it wasn't in much use seeing as travelers through Libra were uncommon. What of gold? Well gold did not exactly put a meal into your belly. Who would you buy from to begin with? Gold is for cities… far from here. As a result of our own isolationism we would trade in services and raw material instead. Fur, food, leather and wood were always in demand, shiny metallic round objects were not. The occasional merchant would trade in gold but we would otherwise simply trade services amongst ourselves. The inn acted as our reception hall for when we'd have a village gathering but otherwise was as good as any other house save that Miss Belinda the owner produced the village Alcohol and a small part of the food supply. Belinda was before all a kind woman who considered everyone like family to describe the innkeeper otherwise then as a woman full of life would be difficult.*

*Obviously we also had our own blacksmith because how would we get daily life tools, hunting gear or weapons otherwise. The good man was not very fond of making weapons, preferring making and repairing daily life tools instead which coming from a dwarf was somewhat surprising. I did overhear that he used to participate in a war a long while ago but that disgusted with the bloodshed he left his home to settle down here in Libra away from it all. Well if old Grumgar was looking for a place in the middle of nowhere to live his twilight years in peace away from conflict Libra would be it. I do remember him showing me around the forge when I was a kid. He even crafted a small hair ornament which acts as a brooch for the black ribbon I still wear today. I guess like most dwarf he appeared rough but was actually a kind man on the inside. This reminds me but aside from him we also had two or four half elves in the village. Me and one of the half elven kids Emilian were good friends when I was younger. This said he kind of stayed a kid longer than I did so I moved on. I overheard that Emilian was somehow against all odds retrieved alive from the frozen ruin of his home and I'm not sure whether I'm jealous, angry, or happy that at least he was saved.*

*Today I rest and meditate upon the graves of all those peoples I deeply cherished. They were all taken from me by the Winterblight as my homeland was. They may be long dead but I still hear the scream as people randomly start freezing over, horrors and monsters taking their places. Adventurers retrieved the bodies but the lives lost are all gone. Up until I received news of Emilian survival I thought to have been the only one. I was tougher than most and had somehow built a resistance to cold which saved my life when the cursed frost came and took theirs. Nightmares featuring frozen bodies and screams of agony would haunt my nights. Sometimes I wonder if that lich simply could see the sheer number of souls demanding retribution swarming around me and simply used this against me. Were they upset at me for leaving them behind? Was I a traitor to everyone because I alone survived by running away?*

*The last few seconds of my life I broke into tears and sob apologizing to everyone as the vengeful spirit of all those I ever loved each took turns holding a knife and plunged it into my cowardly heart, calling me out yet never cutting deep enough to kill me. My own mother came last in line smiling gently as if to soothe my pain and as I begged her to end it she mercifully ran the hunting knife deep enough to finally free me from my own torment. When I finally broke away from the bloodied mess that used to be my shell they welcomed me like old friends and relatives would in death, this is where my soul belonged all along, yet something in me snapped at that moment. Hatred, anger and finally unbridled rage, all I had felt up to the point was fear and depression but as my life ended I bonded with the swarm of negative emotions that had swelled around me until now. Someone was responsible for all of this. I would find them and drag their screaming souls out of their body. The fallen and myself demanded vengeance and would have it. I must never forget my reason for killing, the source of my anger for otherwise what would separate me from the mindless horrors that were spawned by the Winterblight? I am the ghost of Libra, the vengeful shadow of what used to be a small, happy village full of people I dearly cherished."*
*- Journal of Cecile, White hare of Libra 16th of Erastus, 55 IA.*