3rd recorded report to Empress Jesslyn


My Empress,

A quick missive about the events of the evening of the 8th of Thoth and through the Magic Triathlon finals.

After vanquishing the Raksasha that had infiltrated the Sulestan Elves we were about to get some sleep, or at least our compatriots Tyvernos and Azariel were going to get some sleep, when we were inundated by soldiers led by Sir Quixis Ote. He was leading a group of the Knights of Dawn and had been tasked by Terramore Gleba to lead a group of the Soldiers of the Torch to meet us at our tent and to provide additional security.

Not being one to turn down any additional security, and being in a group who welcome the same, we gladly accepted their help, though not before Caminata again voiced concern that we were leading them to their deaths.

We are in a war, My Empress, and this war is no respecter of persons. If being related to a member of CrIsis is enough to get you killed, as Overkill’s daughter was brutally murdered, then I have no qualms calling people to arms against _any_ force which condones such action. It must be rooted out both limb and root or we will be destroyed. This is a battle not between two rival factions with differing political interests but a war of light and darkness for the souls of all sentient beings.

We can’t here and now falter in our steadfastness to our beliefs, and neither can we do this alone. This is no longer an adventure being moved forward by a small group. This _is_ a war, a war of genocide on a level never before seen on the face of Palladium. In the end either the Light or the Darkness will survive, but it will never be able to go back to the Status Quo.

We have much that we can learn from the years in which we were a church of duality. There must needs be tolerance for those who would not toe the same path that we would. There is truth in all religions on the face of Palladium. There is good to be found in all peoples. This doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t give our adherence to a single god or pantheon, and in fact it almost demands that we still worship, but allowing others the same right, the same ability, to worship according to their conscience is just as important.

The days of blindly following the gods of our fathers and their fathers has ended. Now comes the age where every man must decide which gods he will follow and stand behind his decision with all the force of will.

But I digress. I know that Caminata will be aware of this missive, and in no way am I calling her out for her concern. I understand her concern, for we have lost a bevy of guards already during this competition. Also, I feel that, where possible, we should avoid intentionally putting people in harms way, but we need allies, and those allies will get killed. Maybe not all of them, and possibly not all at once, but people will die, and eventually one from CrIsis will be impossible for us to resurrect.

It would seem, My Empress, that Caminata has decided that she should not be differentiated from her fellow Masters of the Druidic craft just because she is a woman, and has taken the opportunity to state in no uncertain terms that she is a Master Druid and not a Mistress Druid. I have a feeling that her attitude shall have far reaching impact upon the interaction of the genders of all races, and whether for the better I can not say. Change for change sake is not desirable, but there are, in truth, things that need to change.

In my continued growth as a Mystic I have discovered a method of summoning both rodents and dogs to my side. I took the time at this moment to summon Dogs to us that they might supplement the actions of the guards in protecting our camp.

They are a rambunctious pile of fur, the thirteen I summoned that first night, and I’ll be sad to see them go when I again summon in sixty hours time.

As we were, finally, beginning to get Tyvernos and Azariel to bed we were visited by Thoth. He had much to tell us regarding what was required of us, and called some of our number, including myself and Overkill, to repentance and to a remembrance of our responsibilities before the gods.

As you may have already heard, I was to bring harmony to the members of CrIsis. It isn’t something I have been working as diligently on as I could, as I am old and grumpy much of the time. I hate being in cities, and the constant wear of people pressing in on me from every side has a side effect of making me irritable.

Overkill must complete his list of pirates, the exact nature of which I don’t understand. He seemed to understand, however, and was suitable cowed.

Something was said to Caminata which I shan’t repeat. While the rest of us have good reason to be called out, I’m not sure about her. She seems, by and large, to be much like other members of CrIsis in the past, and I can’t personally fault her for that. The gods, however, are another story and while I bow to their judgement I will not gossip about it.

Azariel…has been told that he is to use his abilities for the good of CrIsis. And we were all told that we were not meant to spend our time in the cities and towns of Palladium.

We dance and sing for the rest of the night, Azariel providing one of the best musical stylings I have yet to hear, and did it while singing _and_ dancing. Even my dogs got in on the action, dancing in a line all in sync.

The next day, we made our way to the competition. Azariel began the psychological warfare by putting on his finest regalia and then Tyvernos followed suit by offering to escort Caminata to the competition, which she accepted. When we arrived the Sulestan Elves moved to block our path. Here is where things got a little…fun.

I verified that there were no supernatural entities influencing the Sulestan Elves this time and Xer’xses just said, “Oh, I was so used to competing that I’ve come to the wrong door,” and moved toward the spectator entrance. We just defused the situation by ignoring it. I feel as though CrIsis might be making an enemy of the Sulestan, but I will decline to borrow trouble and leave that for another day.

We were ushered into a box where a number of the Defilers were present. It was like sitting with royalty: They seem regal and foreboding from afar, but when you are in their personal presence they flatulate just like everyone else.

It would seem that frequent interaction with Tyvernos is rubbing off on me.

For someone who was being pressed in by all the people, it’s luck that I recognized that Tyvernos won the competition, not to mention the fact that competitors actually died. This is something that concerns me. This is an entertainment for the people who come to watch, and entertainment for the people who listen to the stories that are being told.

War is war, but sport should not be war. If we are to improve as people and get beyond our petty differences then we need to get beyond our petty blood-lust in our entertainment.

Asher of Lopan

Picture from The Quillcards Blog

 

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