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Poe Writer | Battle Mage

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graphics by PoisonedPaper and TerminalEternity
bio code by anxiousghost

Poe has the dream again. It's the third night in a row, the same dream, playing itself over and over like a stubborn child trying to get its way. And he knew, no matter how hard he tried to fight it, the dream would win. He wouldn't get sleep until he wrote it down.

Poe made a deal with a demon. A spirit. It came to him in the form of a crow, its shining black feathers incorporeal and beautiful. He stumbled upon it while sulking through the tangled woods one night. "For what do you wish?" it asked, in a lilting voice.

Poe rolled his eyes. "To be a better writer."

The next night, the dreams came. Dark, twisted tales. The story would repeat itself in a dream, night after night, until finally, when trying to explain it to a friend in a letter, he wrote it down. He had a few days of peaceful sleep until a new dream came. Like before, the dark story haunted his nights. He fought it. This what not what he wished. He wanted to write things people wanted to read, and no one wanted to read this macbre horrors.

But every night, like the beating of a heart, the dreams came, until he would give in and write the stories he was being forced to write. He felt walled in, trapped alive by the spirit he accidentally made a deal with. Soon his room was filled with parchment, scrolls, discarded writings. He was drowning in it. Forced to spend so much time writing the dreams, he gave up writing the things he wanted to write. The weight fell down on him like a dark cloud.

Itd been days since the clan saw him, but he insisted he be left to his solitude. Pinned to his door was a note that read-
"Sadly, I know
I am shorn of my strength,
And no muscle I move
As I lie at full length—
But no matter!—I feel
I am better at length.

My tantalized spirit
Here blandly reposes,
Forgetting, or never
Regretting, its roses—
Its old agitations...

Of parchment and roses"
(Lore snippit by @DetectivePopcorn!)