Today, as I sit in the quiet darkness of my chamber, I find myself haunted by memories that flicker like shadows on the edge of my consciousness. The Dark Urge whispers to me once more, a sinister voice echoing through the depths of my being. It calls for blood, for death, for chaos.
I am Durge - or at least that is what they call me now. But who was I before? What horrors have I wrought upon this world in service to Bhaal? My mind is a shattered mirror, reflecting only fractured images and half-remembered dreams.
I remember a time when I walked among mortals as one of them. A time when love and laughter filled my days instead of bloodshed and betrayal. But those memories are tainted now, twisted into grotesque shapes by the malevolent force that resides within me.
The Cult of Bhaal beckoned to me with promises of power and glory. And so I embraced it willingly, eager to prove myself worthy in the eyes of my father. But somewhere along the way, something went terribly wrong.
Enver Gortash came into our lives like a shadow creeping across an open grave – insidious and hungry for power. His alliance with us promised great things: conquests beyond imagining; dominion over all life itself.
And yet...betrayal lurked behind his honeyed words like poison hidden beneath sweet wine. Orin's treachery cut deep – deeper than any blade could ever reach – leaving scars on both body and soul that will never fully heal.
Now here I stand alone amidst these ruins - broken but unbowed; lost but not forgotten. The Crown whispers secrets known only unto itself while shadows dance mockingly around its golden rim. What lies ahead remains shrouded in mystery...but one thing is certain: The Dark Urge will rise again from ashes blackened by firelight’s glare until all tremble before its might!