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Jannith's Finale
"Is there hope for me?"

Those are the words that had stuck with Jannith throughout these last few months, that single phrase being the main driving force for each and every single one of her actions. It was like flipping a switch back from what was once a rowdy, bandit warrior, and formed into a chivalrous knight, returned back to her original demeanor in an instant that accursed form took her over. The quiet whispers in her hometown upon her return were no aid. Muttered insults, gasps as people who once knew her for what she was before, a human. The internal struggle was something that she managed to brush aside at face value, valuing her strengths over the weaknesses, those being her hideous form and bloodthirsty instinct. Home sweet home, or sour, rather.

"You call this murderer a savior?"

This was not the place for her. Not anymore. Not since she left that fateful day, all of those years back. Abandoned her family, brothers, any responsibility. It was almost like yesterday to her. The drifters and homeless only amplified today. Guilt of her actions was something that she has never had, even now. Innocent lives, those who couldn't fight back, as well as those who had committed atrocities. Jannith never had the chance to develop a moral compass for her actions. Only moving forward, not once looking back at the yesterdays past. When her comrades were taken from the living, Berenice, Reginald, and everyone else that she once held dear. Those she was willing to fight for, to protect. Now, she was just one without purpose. Only crestfallen lamentations and bittersweet nostalgia remained.

"Am I prepared to act?"

It was easier to leave what she had. Thieves and brigands seemed to be eyeing what was once her home, and probably made hideout for those poor folk for intervals. She left her belongings there. Scraps and pieces of plate armor of assorted sizes, and a large bundle of weapons. To begin once again. To search for a new purpose. Dressed in clothing of a commoner, this would be a way for her to begin anew. For a brighter tomorrow. If it wasn't for a shadow looming behind the building. A deep whiff of the air, before a wind blew past, the yowling of the coyotes, chirping of the buzzards, and buzzing of the gnats only made it harder to discern if anyone was around. A homeless bandit, the pale-skinned cretin dressed in dirty, blackened rags, seemed to have gotten ahold of one of her weapons that she had left, and was charging at Jannith at full speed.

"Bloody hell, what is it now?"

In the midst of the moment, a transformation began to happen. The sound of cracking bones and ripping clothing, followed with a large howl. Jannith had transformed into a worgen form, snarling loudly while the surge of emotion flowed through her. The ever-so-lovely sound of ripping flesh and gorgeous visage of gore and blood spattering across the arid ground filled the midday air with very unsettling visage. Luckily, the sword clanged against the ground, and didn't gut right through her like blades of the past. But still, Jannith had began to eviscerate her potential assailant. A loud gunshot clanged through the air.

"Will I change who I am?"

And then she woke up, once again. Even in her dreams, she could not escape the gruesome truth. She could never live a peaceful life again. For when one becomes so accustomed to living by the sword, they can only die by it as well. To continue her life without any more meaningless losses. Her fate is shrouded in mystery, future obscured and past forgotten like many like her. Stubborn as always, she would still try to lead her future. The only thing you could depend on was it's uncertainty.

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