When The Asylum Welcomes Fresh Meat

When the asylum welcomes fresh meat they will test it, cut it, scare it, hump it. Any long established pack of beasts like “CrIsis” will have established and evolving customs the new probationer must navigate to survive or be eaten alive.

Rule #1
Know your opponent.

The mistake so many people make is not in being polite but as my ancestors were fond of saying, “Always have a backup plan to kill everyone you meet.” I had read much of what CrIsis could do, but often not much about the facets of their personality that motivated their thoughts and actions. Anyone that thinks your very friends will not occasionally be your opponents in some facet of life is a fool.

Over the last few days I had gotten to know the Man with No Name and the well spoken Troll, Grignak. I talked with the Nameless one about my love of grinding herbs and grains to make beers. I found it brave and daring when I mentioned I had made a cask of wine. Yes Dwarven Wine indeed! Still, I wonder what drives someone that has gotten back what was lost. My guess is principle! Because readers in the future may have forgotten that Lady Shara Lechellsa yet lives. This type of vengeance is often mistaken for justice, rarely they are the same. It remains to be seen if that is the case this time.

The troll thought I was unhinged and possibly crazy, and for all I know my sister would say, “Sometimes?” Still he is by far the most well read and spoken among the Lunatics. However those conversations were casual and it was clear that Silent Dream wanted to have the ritual chat that helped everyone understand why one might be chosen by the gods. Well every person I met had one thing they did well, lunatics just take it WAY OVER THE TOP! Not only am I not an exception to the rule of lunatic over the top combat tactics. The scholars that keep this world’s dictionaries will want to interview me periodically because I will re-invent the word over and over again!

That’s right I will fear no evil in the valley because I am the baddest terror in the hades forsaken land!

Rule #2
Stab the toughest opponent in the yard, establish your turf.

People think Warrior Monks wants to sit on a mountain and contemplate the dust in their navels for the secret to breaking a rock with your hand.
Phffff.
Kick the rock off a ledge and watch it shatter from the fall. This lesson can be applied to life and all forms of problem solving. Remember Warrior Monks find truth in combat. Politics and merchants can find the most liars and charlatans in these professions and warriors often forget how to wage war on a social level. Warrior monks judge seeing a different battlefield and adjust. If I can’t come at you head on then you should be afraid, because I am still coming for you. Only now you have to deal with the unknown and that’s where you will make a mistake and I’ll cobble you into submission.

So on to the ritual chat, as per custom I shared my true name with those that gave me theirs. Per custom I won’t reveal whom did and didn’t nor anything discussed in specifics. I did catch everyone off guard when I threatened to kill one of CrIsis if moral standards weren’t upheld. Please tell my sister to make sure to catch herself from falling over with laughter. I’m very moral as long as ale, dirty jokes, and card games are involved. To another member’s credit, he realized the ploy for what it was – rule #3.

Rule #3
Always keep your opponent off their target.

You want the truth out of someone, get them so angry they feel they have nothing left to lose or no recourse left to avoid the harsh light of Ra. For beings as old as Ra things “are” or “are not.” It’s those with shorter lives that see the gradients of color the way dull gray of iron turns blue, purple, sanguine, red, orange, yellow, and finally white. Dwarves have seen the gradients for thousands of years and its why we see white as the color of rage not red. When our hair begins to go white after our 40th year it is seen as a sign of our passion coming to the temperature to drive our souls and hearts to the focus of our lives. Be that forging steel, cooking a meal, making drink, or protecting the hearth and home of one’s family. So imagine the such a steady burning flaming getting disrupted from its course. What secrets get revealed? What truths get told? What information can you glean when chaos has the guardians of knowledge running around stopping fires than being at their posts?

This was the metal of CrIsis I wanted to see. What was it made of? Hard and brittle, soft and malleable, or the just the right balance of the two?

Well, that answer will come if you see me continue the next stanzas of the second part of the Ballad of Torrun.

Written in Ancient Dwarven sent to Malkin upon the 8th of Selestra; in 1st year in the Kingdom of Ælfrik
Dwarf siblings image by AZ_Rune.