[ It was months ago that the Outsider gave him his Mark.
Stefano, at the time, had been a simple painter. He adored painting elaborate portraits for others that depicted their true beauty. While not renown, he did not ever have to worry about the plague or a meal. That was until one day a client found fault in his depiction. It ended as all matters end -- with blood and a bladed weapon broken in his right eye. His body ended up thrown into an alleyway to let the rats eat it, to cover up the murder, but the artist was able to drag himself to a shrine of the Outsider.
The mark burned into his left hand as soon as his bloodied hands touched the shrine. And so, Stefano survived with the blade still broken and embedded in his right eye. Like so many before him, madness ate away at him -- yet he remembered one thing. True beauty comes from the horror that the person lives through. It is through the destruction experienced did a person live a fuller, better life filled with unimaginable beauty.
However, unlike all of the others that came before him, Stefano did not care if the Outsider approved of him or not. He did not feel indebted to him for saving his life; he didn't care what the one that hid behind the veils in the Void thought of him at all. What does it matter? I'm making art in the real world. What does one who walks in the subconscious and on the outskirts of reality know of my work? The artist began to carve a bloody path for himself -- leaving eviscerated bodies displayed and hung on display with wire that cut deep into the corpse's flesh.
It was uncertain what the Outsider thought of Stefano, but he did come to the artist during one night in his dreams. He dismissed the black-eyed god, at first, stating that he needed his dreams to himself so that he could imagine new masterpieces. However, the Outsider merely laughed at him and gave him a name -- Daud, the Knife of Dunwall. Stefano did not understand why he was given such a name until he realized that Daud was like him.
He's like me. The artist felt a rush of admiration and adoration fill him. Someone who could understand what it is that I'm doing! Because all the papers and the audiographs seemed to delight in misunderstanding his work. Just like that aristocrat! But surely, someone who paints in blood as I do will understand me. It was then that he decided to get to work to catch the attention of the Knife of Dunwall. He did not know how to find him -- and he knew better than to kill his Whalers when he came across them.
To kill the Whalers would be the same as defacing his own art pieces; that much Stefano understood. No, instead he found corrupt individuals -- individuals that he was certain that the Knife and his assassins would one day focus their attention on. He carved them up, ripping flesh and breaking bone, all to display them proudly in a place that he hoped would be seen by (or heard about) the Whalers. The words painted in the victim's blood was always written upon the walls surrounding their cooling corpses: "FOR THE KNIFE OF DUNWALL."
Daud should feel so honored that Stefano was going so far out of his way to dedicate various masterpieces to him. (Or well, that was what the artist believed each time he carved a body up, each time he ripped a limb free to paint on the walls.) He wondered how long it would be before the Knife came to find him. He wondered how long he would have to wait. It didn't matter; there were plenty of artists that spent years hoping their muse would come to recognize and appreciate them -- he believed he was no different. ]
no subject
Stefano, at the time, had been a simple painter. He adored painting elaborate portraits for others that depicted their true beauty. While not renown, he did not ever have to worry about the plague or a meal. That was until one day a client found fault in his depiction. It ended as all matters end -- with blood and a bladed weapon broken in his right eye. His body ended up thrown into an alleyway to let the rats eat it, to cover up the murder, but the artist was able to drag himself to a shrine of the Outsider.
The mark burned into his left hand as soon as his bloodied hands touched the shrine. And so, Stefano survived with the blade still broken and embedded in his right eye. Like so many before him, madness ate away at him -- yet he remembered one thing. True beauty comes from the horror that the person lives through. It is through the destruction experienced did a person live a fuller, better life filled with unimaginable beauty.
However, unlike all of the others that came before him, Stefano did not care if the Outsider approved of him or not. He did not feel indebted to him for saving his life; he didn't care what the one that hid behind the veils in the Void thought of him at all. What does it matter? I'm making art in the real world. What does one who walks in the subconscious and on the outskirts of reality know of my work? The artist began to carve a bloody path for himself -- leaving eviscerated bodies displayed and hung on display with wire that cut deep into the corpse's flesh.
It was uncertain what the Outsider thought of Stefano, but he did come to the artist during one night in his dreams. He dismissed the black-eyed god, at first, stating that he needed his dreams to himself so that he could imagine new masterpieces. However, the Outsider merely laughed at him and gave him a name -- Daud, the Knife of Dunwall. Stefano did not understand why he was given such a name until he realized that Daud was like him.
He's like me. The artist felt a rush of admiration and adoration fill him. Someone who could understand what it is that I'm doing! Because all the papers and the audiographs seemed to delight in misunderstanding his work. Just like that aristocrat! But surely, someone who paints in blood as I do will understand me. It was then that he decided to get to work to catch the attention of the Knife of Dunwall. He did not know how to find him -- and he knew better than to kill his Whalers when he came across them.
To kill the Whalers would be the same as defacing his own art pieces; that much Stefano understood. No, instead he found corrupt individuals -- individuals that he was certain that the Knife and his assassins would one day focus their attention on. He carved them up, ripping flesh and breaking bone, all to display them proudly in a place that he hoped would be seen by (or heard about) the Whalers. The words painted in the victim's blood was always written upon the walls surrounding their cooling corpses: "FOR THE KNIFE OF DUNWALL."
Daud should feel so honored that Stefano was going so far out of his way to dedicate various masterpieces to him. (Or well, that was what the artist believed each time he carved a body up, each time he ripped a limb free to paint on the walls.) He wondered how long it would be before the Knife came to find him. He wondered how long he would have to wait. It didn't matter; there were plenty of artists that spent years hoping their muse would come to recognize and appreciate them -- he believed he was no different. ]