He was once the most diligent clerk in the Old City Archives Office, and he believed in Ilmat, the god of perseverance, throughout his life. Until turmoil broke out in the city-state, he was framed as the leader of a cult, imprisoned in a dungeon, and eventually burned alive. As his soul was dying, he heard the voice. The voice didn't sound like an oracle, but more like a whisper seeping out from the depths of the lightless shadows behind the curtain, promising him rebirth and demanding the tragedy he had to bring back with him for the rest of his life.
Everyone thought he was just a silent and gentle recorder, but only he knew: he not only recorded tragedies, but also created tragedies himself. If the story is not tragic enough, he will push it; if there is still room for fate, he will tighten the rope with his own hands. He wants to write all the encounters, trusts, betrayals and sacrifices into a tragedy that is grand enough, painful enough, and remembered forever.
Until he met an outrageous team in Waterdeep City - a bard who was extremely poor, a tabby cat ranger who was overly curious, a bear who almost overturned the tavern and the mysterious man on his shoulder, a dragon with a strange mind, and an elf mage who solved the team's housing problem with a bag of gold coins... Is what awaits them at the end of the journey a return journey, or an abyss that swallows everyone? And will he have time to look back and make up for the first domino he pushed down with his own hands?
"No... Why can you really stand up again and again when you shout about friendship and bonding?"
Concept: How does a person who has lost his emotions re-understand the meaning of life by observing others. Kindness may not necessarily be rewarded, but the clumsy and unreasonable warmth between people may be more real than faith.
