The End of War.

Hi.

My name is Oliver Bough.

I am also referred to as The Dove. I am a nest like Faceless was. I got that name because I have Doves inside of me and no other birds. You probably could have guessed that though.

You're also probably wondering why I'm posting here and Faceless isn't. Well, it's because he's dead. He told the birds, before he died, to tell someone else to write what happened so here I am.

Now here's the story told from his point of view.

I arrived at The Grove with Portnoy after about a day and a half. Harold was already waiting there. The grove was bordered perfectly by the surrounding foliage and it made me uneasy. There was something ominous about it and I was hesitant to actually step into the grove. Harold mocked me for my hesitation but then I remembered our first meeting. Back in the apartment I had blindly followed Harold instead of attacking with the birds and that had led me into a trap. I was smarter this time. I released the birds and they flew immediately towards him. He scowled and put out his hands. Smoke began to spread from him like mist and obscured the entire grove. For a split second I saw a large silhouette in the smoke but it was gone. At this point I felt a small rhythmic pounding in my head. The birds were blind in Harold's smokescreen and he began picking them off. I could feel it each time one was destroyed and the pounding became stronger. I called the birds back and decided to just have them nuke the area with lightning. This was... Inneffective. The Lighting fizzled out about 7 feet above the grove. This place definitely had some power. I realized I would have to either enter The Grove or get Harold to come out. I couldn't think of any way to get him out so keeping the birds around me, I slipped my mask back on and headed in. The moment I stepped into the Grove The Smoke cleared and Harold was standing there a few feet from me.

"How about we make this fair. You keep the little birdies off and I'll stay solid for our fight. I've had enough of being an amorphous cloud anyways. That seem fair?"

Realizing that he was actually giving me an advantage, I readily agreed. Although, I was certain he must have had a reason. The fight started simply enough. He created a blade seemingly out of thin air which I later realized was made out of air. I don't know much about physics and I travel around with birds living inside me so I'm not going to question this. His blade despite being made out of wind was still surprisingly solid and sharp. He got one hit in nicking my arm. It wasn't much just a small cut didn't really hurt. Now about that advantage I mentioned earlier. I actually have training with a blade. I'm pretty sure Harold has none. Although. he was holding his own so I guess being a servant of the fear of war gives some kind of natural weapon proficiency or something. Either way though I was obviously the more talented swordsman. Within minutes of the fight I was beating him back. I figured maybe if nothing else I could force him out of the grove. I pushed him to the very edge of the grove and he realized what was happening. At this point he began pushing back with an almost frenzied determination. It worked well enough to keep him in the grove but he was unable to push me back or score anymore hits. It seemed like no matter what I was going to win. I figured agreement or not if I managed to get a blow in he'd turn to smoke and try to flee. So I was incredibly surprised when I managed to get through his guard and my blade slid into his chest. He looked surprised but then shrugged.

"I had hoped it would be you," was all he said. Then he died and at that exact same moment the pounding in my head intensified until I realized it was the sound of war drums. Portnoy was still watching from outside the grove and I saw his eyes widen. A moment later he was gone. I couldn't see anything outside the grove. Inside the grove however things were changing. Large Fetters appeared hanging from the trees and a ring of flames appeared surrounding the grove. A moment later chains attached to fetters wrapped around my arms and legs pulling me down to a kneeling position. In front of me a figure like the silhouette I had seen earlier began to form out of smoke and stitched leather. First it was a bear than a bull and a lion. It's form changing frequently to some other animal. I knew instinctively that I was looking at The Brute. I also realized the meaning of Harold's last words. Raising The Brute had required a living sacrifice. He was intending to use me but he had been the sacrifice instead. The brute was revived. I had to do something but what could I do. I was trapped and my mask was on trapping the birds inside. I couldn't remove it. The birds came to a decision on their own they were nice enough to tell me what it was before enacting it. I would have preferred something else but I guess it was the only way.

That's the end of The Faceless Bastard's account the rest is from The Bright Ones themselves.

With no other choice we pierced our way out of his body. He died in the process torn apart by our exit but it was necessary. We swarmed The Brute. It was still weak from it's revival and from our secondary efforts elsewhere. It could not stand against us. It was too late to destroy it again but we made sure it could never regain it's full power. 

So there you have it. The  Faceless Bastard has died. Torn apart by The Bright Ones as they pierced their way from his body. At least his mission was a success. The Brute's rise was not stopped but calamity was averted nonetheless and he will remain weakened never again to be a threat. Harold was killed and it is confirmed this time that Harold is truly dead. The Brute would not have risen if only part of him had died as happened earlier.

The Faceless Bastard will be remembered as one of the greatest of our number.

Thank you

Oliver Bough

The Dove.