[PF2e Item] Chronicles of a Killer
The Chillingly Honest Memoirs of a Famous Assassin
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15 Rova, 4719 AR, around 7:00
As expected, the window of the target was open between 6:56 and 7:05, after he wakes up and when he is performing his morning ablutions, in order to clear the air of his room.
I entered the room in silence and quickly applied the narcotic while covering his mouth. He panicked and tried to scream through the cloth. The staff had all drunk of the gift sent on the 14th, they all stayed peacefully asleep.
I had pondered, during the week of preparations, on how to kill this one. The 18th target of this cleansing, with only 8 to go after that. I’ve applied myself every time to leave a line, to form stanzas, and finish my work as a poem. This one fancied himself as a collector of fine art, particularly sculptures, so the rhyme came easy. I cleared a space in the room and tied his body to a chair in the middle.
7:08
When he woke, I did my best to learn which of his statues he preferred, which was his favourite piece. A few fingers had to be broken before we understood each other.
I took a hammer and chisel to the statue and broke it down in front of him, then used the (beautifully carved, I have to agree with his taste) head of the statue on his own with great force. It was tiring and boring work, but necessary.
7:13
After approximately 5 minutes, with his head turned into a mix of liquefied brain and broken bones, and his room splattered with a rather cute pattern of pinkish-red, I placed down my “KeVeSa” receipt on the floor and left through the window.
I’ve seen the Gazette has started to mention my work, and the public seems quite shocked. I wish they knew why, if they did they would surely thank me. Maybe some will understand, in the end, but it matters not to me.
This rare book can be found at specialized shops, obscure markets and in the hands of unknowing collectors. It is not magical in any way, but it puts a heavy burden on the mind of its reader.
The publishers realised the disturbing nature of the book and its title immediately, and so decided to change it for something more “sellable”. Sadly for them, even rebranded as a cheap piece of crime fiction, it never sold well. It is obvious in the very first pages that this is not fiction but the cold, chillingly honest and detailed memoirs of killer. For most, the vivid and excruciatingly precise descriptions of each murder’s preparations and executions is too much to bear.
Is KeVeSa still alive, somewhere, ready to apply their horrifying skills once more? Was there any truth to the accusations, did the cult ever exist or was it only a paranoid projection of this cold and calculating mind? When so many lie dead, convenient excuses are tempting, but who’s to say?
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