Redemption is not something I have openly sought. I do not wish to change, or be changed by someone else. Whether or not I am judged by the spirit healer upon my death for the indiscretions in my life is something I have learned to accept, regardless of the outcome.
If she whispers her secret words to damn me, then I am a damned creature indeed.
That being said, the actions that I have taken are entirely of my own choosing. But, yes, it was my love that had planted the idea in my head. I did not do them to make amends in my life. I only feel guilt to a certain point. As she had said once when I asked her if she had any moral or ethical qualms with what I do, her reply was this, "Does the lion feel guilt for sinking his teeth into the gazelle?" It is in my nature to do what I do, and I should not feel remorse.
We had discussed what would happen upon my death. As I do not have any family members listed with the Magistrate, if I die my money and estate would then belong to the Silvermoon government. I expressed to her that I do not wish to continue feeding into the bloated corruption of our city.
And then she suggested to me the actions that I have since taken.
It was a rainy afternoon, but I was wet with sweat. I had spent the entire day packing. I knew that this task could not be done with assistance. It was something that, for many reasons, I had to do by myself. I waited until it was dark to move. One does not realize how heavy, clumsy, and otherwise bulky hundreds of thousands of gold pieces are. It felt like I was loading massive tons of bricks into the cart. It took from sun up to sun down to count, organize, pack, and load all that money alone.
I am not a terribly religious man. While I understand that gods and goddesses exist, it always prompted the philosophical question of the existence of the soul. I have heard once from a thoughtful man that one is not born with a soul; it is something that is earned through suffering, reflection, and personal growth. I am a stubborn man, and have always wondered if I was one to be granted such a gift. Perhaps I now have one saving grace that would make that true.
Once I loaded the gold into the cart-- (packed tightly in bags that were locked into crates) I took with me several guns, knives, and weapons to keep me safe on the journey. My talbuk pulled myself and the cart with some reluctance, but, as one of my oldest and most loyal friends, he proceeded without complaint.
We journeyed to the lower city of Shattrath. It was an uneventful tale, as I was only stopped once by the Dark Portal checkpoint. They did not search and check me, as I explained that it was merely an unexciting supply cart of food and medical supplies. With my haggard appearance, I think that I was easily believable.
I stopped the cart in front of the Shattrath orphanage. I paid someone a small sum to a random passerby to explain to the matron that it was the first of many like it to come. She did not ask nor look into the cart to see what it was, though I am sure she will soon find out once she begins to unload the gold. It was a very large anonymous donation.
When I saw the state of the orphanage, my heart sank. I did not feel good about what I had done, I only realized how much more they need. The carpeting was threadbare. The matron's desk was being propped up by a book. The children looked underfed and their clothes were rags. There were few toys, and many of the ones they had were broken. There was a putrid, stale scent that I could not shake from my clothes, even as I left.
I intend to continue spilling my gold into causes like this. It isn't to make myself feel good, but perhaps I will have earned a small reason to justify my existence. And, perhaps when I die, I will have earned a eternal spirit.
Yours truly,
Kiaphus
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