Ameris Santraeger - Meditations

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kleomenes
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Re: Ameris Santraeger - Meditations

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*a record, rather than an entry, as if transcribed from something*

Three Pillars
The Knight Protects
The Knight is Just
The Knight is Merciful
He is a shield
He wields a sword
He endures

His life is service
He balances the scales
He ends suffering
His duty is to all
His judgement is true
He is proportionate
*further notes are made, a reflection, neatly written*

My Brother (the Prelate, now) has given me an interesting book, here. Ever we talk of the Triad, and talk of the unity of righteous conduct. Yet in truth, each of the Faithful stand for one to the exclusion of the others. Does this give a stilted, narrow view of righteous conduct? Maybe, sometimes.

Is it possible to spread one's faith? It sounds a crazed idea, yet if the Triadic gods are anything, it is wise, and selfless. Maybe they are willing to share their followers, just as they are willing to cooperate among themselves. Indeed, reading these texts, it seems that in history the ideals of the Triad have before been synthesised into a single knight: such individuals being a just warrior, a fearless protector, and a merciful healer.

If any could be such, it is Prelate Alexander. I am honoured he has shared this text with me, though. So I study it with respect.

*the remainder scrawled, as if exhausted*

Is this balance so hard to understand? There are three pillars. Justice, protection, mercy. It is not for us to hold back from any of them. Why is mercy degraded? Why is it deemed weakness, or foolish, even by those who walk under the aegis of the Triad? If goodly conduct was dispensed only with the sword, why would Ilmater be one of the pillars at all? The world would be composed of hewed necks, only!

Blind! Blind!

Grace. You may need mercy yourself soon. Remember ignorance is only the absence of learning.
Vadim Morozov, Dreadmaster.
Former Characters: Mel Darenda, Daug'aonar, Dural Narkisi, Cynric Greyfox, Ameris Santraeger, Cosimo Delucca, Talas Marsak.
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Re: Ameris Santraeger - Meditations

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*a journal entry written in a different hand - not that of the author of the other entries. The writing is slanted, a flowing motion that connects every letter in each word. There are no breaks or pauses in the script, each letter perfect as the next*

This notary is the last in a series of payments, to advance the learning of the Radiant Heart with secrets untold even in the deepest darknesses. The magic is not present, but the glyph and memories are.

*the words "to advance the learning of the Radiant Heart with" are crossed out with a neat line, although they can still be read, as if the vandal was unwilling to sully such perfect script. Above the crossed out words are written replacements, in the hand of the journal's usual author*

to enable healing, in the name of the Lord on the Rack, through the shattering of

*on the bottom half of the page a hideous image is artistically drawn, small circular design about the size of a brooch. The image is in the form of the flailing, spiked whip symbol of Loviatar merged with the spider symbol of Lolth, the spider itself forming the handle of the whip, with webs and legs danging down. Below the image are more words, written again in the hand of the journal's usual author*

The enemy is known - and they are two. By the grace of He Who Endures, the Lady of Pain will be Broken.
Vadim Morozov, Dreadmaster.
Former Characters: Mel Darenda, Daug'aonar, Dural Narkisi, Cynric Greyfox, Ameris Santraeger, Cosimo Delucca, Talas Marsak.
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Re: Ameris Santraeger - Meditations

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*wavering, tired hand*

Eleint the first, 1349 - The Duel

Well, that could have gone better, I think. But I wasn't ready, woman!


......Although, from the jaws of defeat, a victory! Of sorts.

I am curious... but do I dare to ask?
Last edited by kleomenes on Wed Dec 10, 2014 9:34 am, edited 1 time in total.
Vadim Morozov, Dreadmaster.
Former Characters: Mel Darenda, Daug'aonar, Dural Narkisi, Cynric Greyfox, Ameris Santraeger, Cosimo Delucca, Talas Marsak.
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Re: Ameris Santraeger - Meditations

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*the writing is neat but the page is ink-stained*

On Endeavour

Why do people do what they do? Out of selfishness.

I suppose the reasons are as varied as the number of people on Faerun. Everyone has their own reasons, motivations, needs, beliefs, desires, hopes. Any answer would be so vague as to be worthless. Let me narrow the question, then.

Why does the righteous man do what he does? Again, wide, but I will attempt to answer.

- He might act out of a selfless desire to protect.
- He might act out of compassion for others.
- He might act out of an inability to stand aside when wrongs are done.
- He might believe he must act as an example.
- His sense of duty towards those who taught him his ideals may spur him on.
- He might have a sense of honour which must be met by virtuous conduct.
- He may feel to leave his skills idle is not just inaction, it is a wrong to those in need.


No. Too wide, too general.

Better to ask what things a righteous man should spurn when deciding to act. That will give an answer, perhaps, to the question of virtuous conduct.

- Riches should not incite a man to an action he would not otherwise take.
- Fame an adulation should not move a man to action. Such is pride.
- Fear should not hold him back.
- Anger should not spur him on, unless his path is already set.
- He should not act with poor judgment, recklessly.
- He should not act on prejudice and rumour.
- Personal
*a blot on the page, and then three dots*

I stopped there, and now I record this. I was to write Personal honour should weigh lightly against the needs of others. Do I believe this? I have written before on honesty. Is that not personal honour, in a sense?

Mayhaps the distinction stands in purpose. Personal honour out of pride should be set aside. Personal honour owed to others, for the benefit of trust, that is to be retained fiercely.The proper statement should perhaps be, then:

- He should reject pride. Are you a righteous man, my prideful lion?

One final thing. He should also not act based on the action or inaction of others, but rather, because he does what he perceives as right. He is accountable for his own actions - not those of others. [The sentence has been underlined by someone else] Such is an important principle.


[The underlined sentence is repeated]
Accountable for his own actions.

Not those of others.


Yet, I am expected to be held accountable for everything wicked committed in Zhentarim's name.
Last edited by kleomenes on Thu Dec 11, 2014 3:54 am, edited 1 time in total.
Vadim Morozov, Dreadmaster.
Former Characters: Mel Darenda, Daug'aonar, Dural Narkisi, Cynric Greyfox, Ameris Santraeger, Cosimo Delucca, Talas Marsak.
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Re: Ameris Santraeger - Meditations

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*written in something of a scrawl*

On Limitations

Faith can move mountains, they say. I am reminded, painfully, that I cannot. A lady in need, and all I could do was die to make a point, and die very quickly at that. Such was the protection I could offer. And now, what can I do? Rush to my death, or wait for...something. This burns me.

I had a choice to flee. I chose to die, foolish to some I bet. I have had to choose between myself and another before, though, one I cared about, as here. I will not choose badly again. Death is preferable. Yet I live thanks to a saviour, Hinzel, a thing of luck. I could lie to myself and say the gods provide, I would be wrong though. So, it was all failure, on my part.

(Hinzel. He is a man I should know better, evidently, and a man who has his own troubles. There is a debt to discharge there.)

When it comes to it, I am just a man with a sword who believes some things - believes them very much, perhaps, enough that a god who believes the same will accept my prayers. Yet there are others in this world, and they believe other things, and they have their gods too. Such is in balance, perhaps, although I know Mercy is for all. Mayhaps faith will not subside alone. Nor will a fiery heart. Will it not? [squeezed in-between sentences] Both must walk with wisdom and wit, restraint and tact. Such are the advantages that can be used to tip the balance.

And, as Alexander said, to trust in the wisdom and wit of others is no bad thing, if a hard thing, sometimes.

So I will wait.
Last edited by kleomenes on Thu Dec 11, 2014 4:01 am, edited 1 time in total.
Vadim Morozov, Dreadmaster.
Former Characters: Mel Darenda, Daug'aonar, Dural Narkisi, Cynric Greyfox, Ameris Santraeger, Cosimo Delucca, Talas Marsak.
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Re: Ameris Santraeger - Meditations

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*a neat entry, meticulous, to allow clarity upon being revisited*

On Distraction

Patrolling the High Moor with Katarina: Dangerous, so I have to concentrate. Putting undead to rest is morally uncomplicated, and it is a good thing to confront all the enemies one may meet in the north. I have to behave around Katarina so cannot mope. A moping lion is not much of a sight anyway. [Written between the sentences] This is good distraction and can be repeated. Add to this similar works of duty, for example cultist hunting in the south, and the like.

Charitable endeavour: Very worthy. Even if it does not distract (and it does, when the donations are flowing), then at least you have done something good with your time. Achievement buoys spirits.

Cringing apologies to actresses: Check they are actually needed, first!

What did you apologize for? Do remember, that all is forgiven.

Cataloging the contents of the Radiant Heart infirmary: Never a bad thing to know what we have, and what we need. However, extending the task by putting everything in alphabetical order, then arranging by category of treatment, then arranging back to alphabetical order, is a waste of time. Crushingly boring, and also, doesn't actually stop me thinking. Do not repeat unless needed.

Redemption for warlocks: Very worthy, if their hearts are willing. Good distraction, although some niggles arising from recent events. Patience can also be a little short. However, be careful of judgment, as one may be distracted from the distraction. Remember duty to all so that the best effort is put in.

Collecting mushrooms: Grouped with other "helpful" tasks. Its always good to help. Saps feelings of powerlessness - even servile Ilmateri have the power to deliver mushrooms and berries intact! Not necessarily the most distracting, however. Take additional steps to keep the mind from wandering and all should be well.

Learning about elves from Laitae: In and of itself fascinating. However, the extent to which it distracts is context dependent. Mayhaps a poor choice in the current situation. Although, I did learn a lot. Repeat, depending on future situation.

Staring hopelessly at the moon: Just no, Ameris.

Writing this journal: Normally I imagine it would be helpful. Right now, though, the scratch of the quill sounds like the roar of an inexorable avalanche, sweeping forth to grind all I have built to dust. Poetic.

*less neat, a hurried codicil*

Ha, how uplifting. Go back to the moon!


There is a romantic in you.

Hidden.

But it is there?
Last edited by kleomenes on Thu Dec 11, 2014 4:29 am, edited 1 time in total.
Vadim Morozov, Dreadmaster.
Former Characters: Mel Darenda, Daug'aonar, Dural Narkisi, Cynric Greyfox, Ameris Santraeger, Cosimo Delucca, Talas Marsak.
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Re: Ameris Santraeger - Meditations

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*an entry written in a heavy hand*

On Punishment

Ilmater preaches mercy for all who deserve it , this is well known. Of course, who is deserving can be an unpalatable thing outside the faith, for those who seek to atone for past misdeeds are as worthy as the innocent - indeed, they are the very ones for whom mercy is most needed. My Lord's victory is most clear when a dark heart turns to the light, and his defeat stark when a flickering candle of redemption is snuffed out by the winds of righteous fury. This I believe.

You are a noble man dear, to stand for such beliefs when faced against strong opinions.

Yet, those who think Ilmateri eternally passive are wrong. The Lord on the Rack may be patient, and forgiving, his anger slow, his words those of peace. Yet inside his soft heart there is a core of iron, and when his wrath rises it is implacable, fierce, unbreakable. He shatters chains, breaks the instruments of torture, and punishes those of wicked heart with a swift, terrible fury. When resolved, however, the blows he lands have one purpose: to end the evil before him, quickly, finally.

He abhors suffering. He will not cause it, even in the wicked. Death dealt should be quick, clean and as painless as possible. A tear of regret, perhaps, for the necessary act, even as the fury drives him on. Is all suffering not holy..?

What then, am I to make of a pile of kindling piled high within the city, a stake, and a sinner tied to it roasting slowly, agonisingly in the flames? Tortured to death, following guilt proclaimed in the Temple of Tyr? A mass of onlookers, firelight reflected in their wild eyes, cheering the passing of a life? A warlocks life, yes, but still a life.

They are not done for the one punished. They are a message to criminals - this fate awaits you. And a message, as well, to the people - Stay within the law, and Look how your rulers protect you. Come, feed your base desires with a bloody spectacle. And a final message to them. Violence, our violence, is righteous. Not yours, though. Remember whose hand holds the sword. Elves hold them wicked, I am told, and hold us barbaric for such practices.

I am young, but I have seen many public executions. To my shame, I forget many names, and many faces. Some I remember though, clearly. The first I watched with my brother, the look of horror in his face, and then the impact of my palm on the back of his head, hard. Punishment for weakness in front of the commons. And I remember the approving smile of my father on seeing his eldest son's resolve.

I remember another, the first I was more than just observer to. I remember the jeers of the crowd as the condemned as the were led forward, their lust for what was to come, born of relief that it was not them. I remember savage blows, scourging the condemned. I remember the faces of all three as they stood at the gallows. One resigned, one haughty, one weeping and begging for mercy. I remember the pregnant silence which fell over the crowd as the heads went through nooses.

I remember all eyes on the Count's son on the dais, waiting. I remember raising my hand, to a gasp of apprehensive, baited breath. I remember it falling, giving signal, and the bodies falling two. Three loud cracks, and a roar from the crowd, a savage cry, not a thing of justice at all. I did not look at them hanging there long, but they stayed for a day and a night, as a message. I did not look at them, but I see them still.

I remember these things and I think on the burning in Baldur's Gate. Yes, death must be dealt sometimes. Yet to parade it, revel in it, prolong it, this cannot be something looked on fondly by the Triad. The deed should be done swiftly, painlessly, and privately. No. [A tiny, yet clearly written word] An announcement is enough, to see the act is only a thing which inures and cows the people to violence. It is a dark thing. To make them inured to torture as well? I agree with a wise, if unconventional friend: The devil who granted the warlock his pact must be laughing hard, now, at what he has made the people of Baldur's Gate accept as justice.
Last edited by kleomenes on Thu Dec 11, 2014 5:47 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Vadim Morozov, Dreadmaster.
Former Characters: Mel Darenda, Daug'aonar, Dural Narkisi, Cynric Greyfox, Ameris Santraeger, Cosimo Delucca, Talas Marsak.
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Re: Ameris Santraeger - Meditations

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*written in a heavy hand*

On Conviction

You can meet a lot of strong opinions on the coast. People can be quick to state what the stand for and who they worship, and hold forth with their thoughts on a number of topics. Ever you hear what someone thinks about Amnians, what another thinks about the Dukes, what another thinks about the elves, or paladins, or what they think about the weather or the price of grain. Or of wine, or of priests. [written between the sentences] Some opinions, though, are more deeply held. Indeed, for those of faith, who have sworn oaths, opinion does not go far enough. What they hold are convictions, the principles of their faith.

It is easy to preach righteousness when all is well, when peace reigns, when there are no needs to be done and the innocent rest safely. It is easy then to speak of mercy and charity, of justice, of respect for life and those who hold that precious gift. It is easy to talk of setting an example, of being a bastion of goodness and truth.

The gods do not grant us their blessings because they ask us to do an easy thing.

It is when our convictions are tested that we show our faith. The world can be a cruel place, and sometimes the path we should take is painful, whereas the path we want to take seems easier, quicker, delivering results. If we could just, this one time, compromise our righteousness, discard the beliefs we held so dear before. What are our beliefs, the teachings we preach, to the lives we must save now?

They are everything or we are nothing - except hypocrites. And we cannot call ourselves men of true faith then, just the clergy of convenience.

Faith provides. This is because our gods do not tell us to act a certain way idly. They tell us to act this way because it is the right way to be. If we cannot see a way to act according to our faith, the failure is in our effort and wisdom, not in the convictions we are bid to follow.

I have never been good with faith...
Last edited by kleomenes on Thu Dec 11, 2014 7:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Vadim Morozov, Dreadmaster.
Former Characters: Mel Darenda, Daug'aonar, Dural Narkisi, Cynric Greyfox, Ameris Santraeger, Cosimo Delucca, Talas Marsak.
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Re: Ameris Santraeger - Meditations

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*written neatly, with some embellishment, not far removed from calligraphy - the entry may have taken some time*

On Duty

They wrote truly. If you knew of the man, the details in which we believe he has met his demise were in line with the quality of his character. Yet it was a hard letter for me to read. A brother, a friend, a mentor fallen. All that remains now is a bloodied greatsword and the tremors of the impact he left, tangible, enduring.

For those left behind? For the Order, memories of his wisdom, his patience, his bravery, his leadership, his tireless action. For me? My memories extend to his forgiveness, his acceptance, his teaching, his belief that I am a better man than I think myself. I have a hand on my shoulder still, a gauntlet in fact. Ever will I be mindful of it in the future, sure to remember counsel given and act accordingly.

The virtues of the Triad were in his heart, yet one ideal shines true as the defining virtue of the man. His commitment to duty was unshakable, a commitment for which he would set aside hopes for self, soft feelings of love, and even friendship; although I am honoured to say he failed in this last one, towards the end. He was a man who gave everything of himself, so as to protect the innocent. It is fresh news carried in the letter, that he sacrificed his body for duty, in the fight against unspeakable evil. Yet his true sacrifice began long before. This should be honored, admired, and where necessary emulated.

I must do my own duty as fervently as he followed his. There is no better way for me to pay my respects.

Brother Alexander Marshall, Favoured of Torm, bearer of the Gauntlet, Knight then Prelate of the Radiant Heart, a seeker of knowledge, a champion of the innocent, an aspirant Knight of the Triad, a solitary flame in darkness, yet the spark to light the cleansing fires of righteousness. Rest with your god, Brother, you have earned it.

*written below, somewhat less ornately*

The darkness of sleep traps me in my own mind and gives me dogged clarity. Should check in Sundabar. There was no body, there is not certainty. A soul should be conveyed, if nothing else.
Vadim Morozov, Dreadmaster.
Former Characters: Mel Darenda, Daug'aonar, Dural Narkisi, Cynric Greyfox, Ameris Santraeger, Cosimo Delucca, Talas Marsak.
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Re: Ameris Santraeger - Meditations

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*the writing is flowing, messy and slanted, as if merely thoughts on a page, rather than a considered entry*

Dancing? Dancing, with just *the ink blobs on the page here* ...with just what?

I can't suggest this to her!

I mean, REALLY?

Elves, so many differing kinds. All mad! My Lord, did you create them to test the faithful? Ha! *this sentence is crossed out, although it can still be read*

"Do not be blasphemous, Ameris, and do not be of narrow mind."

Well it isn't my way, perhaps, but there are many different ways to pray, to heal, to live, this much I have learnt in Baldur's Gate. I should not close my mind to the wisdom of others, maybe I can learn something. And it is, without a doubt, an improvement for her.

That's it. Keep it about philosophy! That will work!
Last edited by kleomenes on Thu Dec 11, 2014 7:44 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Vadim Morozov, Dreadmaster.
Former Characters: Mel Darenda, Daug'aonar, Dural Narkisi, Cynric Greyfox, Ameris Santraeger, Cosimo Delucca, Talas Marsak.
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Re: Ameris Santraeger - Meditations

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*the script is neat, although hurried*

On the Strictures of Faith

I gave a lecture today. My Sister was troubled, balancing desire to protect her child, and the dictats of Ilmater to show Mercy to all. I spoke truly of Ilmateri doctrine, as I understand it and as it was taught to me - mercy should be shown to all. I spoke of how this was why some Ilmateri would avoid bonds with others closer than friendship, as family, partners, close companions, could all distort perspective. A desire to see to their wellbeing could pollute the Mercy shown further afield. When giving counsel to others, we must be mindful of this.

Do you think you should avoid such close bonds, Ameris...?

Sometimes, the way you shielded yourself made me think you wanted to. Avoid it. Perhaps still do?


Look to your own house, Ameris! How lucky you are that the dictats of faith, for you, align with those of your heart. Do you know how you would act if this were not the case?

*a few drops of ink, as if the quill is held above the page for a few moments*

I told my Sister it was well she looked to the child first, her duty lay there. The child would look to her for guidance, and healing. Its fate was in her hands. She had to think of it first. But, to do such is not a thing of Ilmater, though, it is to be human - and we are that, oh are we that.

If one does not lie about where one is compromised, where one's judgment is clouded, then at least one can look on the Lord on the Rack with open heart, and allow him to judge.
Last edited by kleomenes on Thu Dec 11, 2014 7:50 pm, edited 2 times in total.
Vadim Morozov, Dreadmaster.
Former Characters: Mel Darenda, Daug'aonar, Dural Narkisi, Cynric Greyfox, Ameris Santraeger, Cosimo Delucca, Talas Marsak.
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Re: Ameris Santraeger - Meditations

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*written neatly*

On Respect

It is easy to form friendship with those who agree with your methods. How could you not? You have common action to unite you, and words of comfort will flow freely.

It is easy to form friendship with those who share interests with you. How could you not? You enjoy sharing your past times

It is easy to form friendship with those who are kind to you. How could you not? Their soft words erode any other concerns there are.

It is easy to be polite with those who are polite themselves. Manners and formal distance prevent discord.

It is easy to be polite with those who are ambivalent to you and your goals. No hostility is offered, so it is no hardship to refrain from offering such.

It is easy to be polite with those who you barely know. What is an insult, or a wrong, from someone who means little more than a passing gust of wind?

Thus, I am able to maintain my manners, and act with the grace required of me in both my lives, so far. Yet sometimes, in both lives, I have been challenged and that grace has slipped, exposing a vitriolic canker. I can sting, when I want to. Oh yes, that sting. [written between sentences] I have a lack of patience, anger even.

What has tested me? A man, whose life is devoted to the protection of children, and the innocent people of the Coast. A man who, I am told - and I believe - has seen terrible things, done terrible things, yet tries to rise above it. A man who, however, does not strive to be a good man, as he believes the children and the innocent do not need a good man - they need a hard man. I cannot agree with his methods. They are an admission of defeat, to me, and a breach of faith with my Lord. And, for me myself, they would be temptation. I have turned my back on harshness, or at least, I try to. *the next word is crossed out* Sometimes *a dab of ink at this point*

Yet I think on my discussions with him. He reproaches me, he reprimands me. ]Oh how your pride must have suffered. Did you ever recover from it? [a longer sentence written in a mocking tone] He explains why he acts why he does, and belittles what I seek to do. He calls me fool, weak, lacking resolve. Why is this? It could be said that once, perhaps, he thought highly of me and thought, maybe, I needed to act has he did. In his eyes, I was worthy of respect, if, as it happens, I have disappointed him.

And what of me? I think upon the man, and certain memories incite anger. Yet, I look at the core of what the man tries to do, what he believes his actions are for, and I see a man whose goals are not far from mine. A different focus, perhaps, but noble nonetheless. The methods I do not agree with, but the goals, the are the same. It is clear there is no one who would be a firmer protector of the children at Mercy's, he would give anything for them, and has. This should be honoured.

Will he return, and if he does, will he return undamaged? He is the Rock, if any can survive it is him. Yet, rock is shaped at the will of a mason, is that what the lich will prove to be. I pray not. Yet, I will stand vigil in his place - not within, no, he forbade that - but outside. I can think of no better way to honour the man than to continue his vigil.

*written hastily as an afterthought*

Ha! It is not just the Rock who calls me soft, and says I must act in a firmer way. How strange, the same message from two very different mouths!


Are you soft? I wonder.

And then I think.... No.

You have resolve.

All may not see it but you struggle and falter at times but you do not fall.

A soft man would have fallen.
Last edited by kleomenes on Thu Dec 11, 2014 7:58 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Vadim Morozov, Dreadmaster.
Former Characters: Mel Darenda, Daug'aonar, Dural Narkisi, Cynric Greyfox, Ameris Santraeger, Cosimo Delucca, Talas Marsak.
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Re: Ameris Santraeger - Meditations

Unread post by kleomenes »

*written somewhat scrappily, as if late at night*

[The page has drawn flowers on it; intricate and swirly, hugging the rows of words written on it]

On the Insane

When I was learning the healing arts of He Who Endures, I was amazed at how much learning the church of Ilmater had collected. Each disease catalogued, each bone detailed, the minutiae of burns and abrasions recorded in complete detail. I ate up all of it, anything to occupy my mind and banish thoughts of the past. It was certainly better than sweeping the halls, which let my mind wander. Only the garden gave me more peace.

Brother Superior Ralvon, the tutor, almost had a morbid fascination for the topic he taught. He relished the tales of disease he spoke of, drawing out lurid desciptions of pox and plague - yet when we recoiled in horror at the latest tale of trauma he had for us, he was never short of a remedy to suggest, his eyes twinkling at our evident relief.

There was one topic, however, which he never joked about, ever serious. Injuries to thought, diseases of the mind And what of injuries to the heart? What of heartache my dear? [words written between sentences], these were, he said, the gravest of all sicknesses, and the ones which were the highest calling of an Ilmateri healer. I remember his words.

Even the Crying God does not know all the workings of a sentient mind, closed to the gods, closed to everything but its own will. Why do we act as we do? A curse of sanity or insanity, bestowed by magic, is one thing. True aberrant thought is as hard to detect as it is to defeat. Use everything in your resource, but remember always you can only do your best.

I know well that a sickness of the soul is harder to heal than any other disease. I think often on the Brother Superior's words. Yet, I am confident that it is possible for such to be healed, as he was, with faith and insight. I must believe this, right now. I must remember this is what I do. I am healer first, then Ameris. You are a peacock.[The words have been stricken through but readable] You are Ameris. Ameris the peacock.

Yet my thoughts tonight, in this lonely hour, shift elsewhere. Brother Superior spoke of a specialised temple he had practiced in himself, in his youth. It held those who were a danger to themselves, or others. Halfwits, madmen, feebleminds, as many would call them. Those with a sickness of the mind, or the soul. Healed, treated, with hopes of final cure. Yet, held, prevented from doing harm. The worst restrained, bound, within soft walled cells.

I hear of the events in Triel only as rumour. Yet I know the end result. Two orc cubs in Mercy's orphanage, Kaltrya saved, and *the quill is tapped on the page here* fire and blood.

The cubs... children... were unnecessary....

What is such savage violence, born of trauma, but a kind of madness?
Last edited by kleomenes on Sat Dec 13, 2014 6:16 am, edited 2 times in total.
Vadim Morozov, Dreadmaster.
Former Characters: Mel Darenda, Daug'aonar, Dural Narkisi, Cynric Greyfox, Ameris Santraeger, Cosimo Delucca, Talas Marsak.
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kleomenes
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Re: Ameris Santraeger - Meditations

Unread post by kleomenes »

*neat words, considered*

On the Tide

One of the things young Ilmateri struggle with is a sense that they cannot be everywhere, do everything, heal everyone. We are limited, mortal, and we cannot ourselves make the world a place without suffering. Even our Lord cannot do that.

A night returns to my memory, nearly three years old now. It was a warm summers night, the day had been baking and the stench of Athkatla's slums were ripe with decay. A fevered disease was sweeping across it, touching many but leaving the weak and old lifeless and rotten. It was a short pestilence, only affecting the poor - a footnote in the tales of suffering which fill the world - yet it bit me deep.

I remember, the courtyard before the shrine was filled with the sick, and their families. Everywhere I looked, the listless eyes of suffering bore down into me - young and old were those who were plague-touched, and the numbers were too great for the healers of the shrine. Our blessings could only touch so many each day, and our artifice beyond that was not always successful. In the evenings, when all our prayers were spent, and our supplies dwindled, all we could offer was soft words. But that night, they were not in me. I looked out on them all, utterly hopeless. What was the point, if there were so many we could not help?

I remember a soft voice speaking to me, as I looked out on those starving masses. "Ameris, remember that no one man can stop the tide. He should not blame himself if he cannot, it is beyond his power. He can only act as his conscience dictates."

I remember replying, bitterly. "So we never think of anything better? No prevention? Just hopeles cure?"

"No." the wiser priest had replied. "Patience has its rewards. There are limits to our powers, but not to our resolve. The consequences of our actions may ripple further than the immediate."

It took you time to accept, to understand this...? You are patient with me in this...

To my dishonour I lost my patience then. "And if they do not?"

The reply was calm, although a little disappointed. "Then we did what we could, young brother."

My thoughts moved on then, as I looked out across the courtyard, to fury and palaces built on coin and suffering. I held my sword for the first time in but I still remember those words, wiser than mine.

It is hard to swim against the tide, this is true. I am finding that very much, currently. Still, its important to swim, though, just to stay afloat. The tide may sweep you out, but if you survive, it may well bring you back to new, solid ground. Tired, cold, but alive.
Last edited by kleomenes on Sat Dec 13, 2014 6:20 am, edited 2 times in total.
Vadim Morozov, Dreadmaster.
Former Characters: Mel Darenda, Daug'aonar, Dural Narkisi, Cynric Greyfox, Ameris Santraeger, Cosimo Delucca, Talas Marsak.
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kleomenes
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Posts: 2419
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Re: Ameris Santraeger - Meditations

Unread post by kleomenes »

*very minor variations in the script of this entry indicate each paragraph is written at a different sitting*

On the Journey

1
It begins with a task, of course, Yet immediately there is confusion and curiosity in equal measure. Many unfamiliar things are noted, some understood, some not. An interest in people is evident. Again, their strangeness is at times understood, at times a mystery. There is a man who is both understood perfectly, and not at all. A running theme. All interaction a thing of trade, fair exchange the only path to trust. Already two strains are evident. Despair over loss, and mercy, if misplaced, for these unfamiliar creatures. Fear is here, as manifested by plans for return.

2
Mis-communication in this one. The author comes from one culture, the first subject another. The harshness of the author's background is evident. The inequity. Again, the fact nothing comes without price, nor should altruism be asked for. Fear is strong here, fear of pursuit, of violence from those left behind and of violence from those newly met (actually received!), underlining the authors uncertain state. Yet, amid this concern mentions of suspicions towards a comrade are checked by fairness. A desire for accuracy? The author reaches out from the page, as if wanting to be heard, remembered.

3
Curiosity again, an appreciation of unfamiliar natural beauty, a fascination even. Yet fear already mars this place of peace. And that bitter culture again, with talk of slaves. Still a foot in the shadows of the past. Loneliness, a hunger for company evident, sought in unfamiliar climes yet that of the past missed most keenly. The author muses, perhaps, on what has been sacrificed even while thinking hopefully of a return to the parts of the past most cherished. Death first mentioned as the likely outcome, something likely in truth thought of long before, but only now committed to page, made real. The author writes of just punishment for abomination with confusion - some horrors, then, are merely learnt behaviour.

4
Chains of past suffering are evident, here. Past suffering? Present, at least at the time the author writes. Past atrocity is dwelt on, and the justice served on the torturer. Yet, a strange plea by the author - or an admission? - to the reader. An absence of malice, a distance from the motives of others of her ilk. Yet, also, resentment at being judged as them, and at the hypocrisy of the unremitting wrath faced by those who. I will write it, those who should know better. Once again the author dwells on loneliness, mindful of the memory of a former - friend? Comrade? Unclear, as is the nature of their joint task. I query whether this was a past sin, in truth. Yet the author presses on, further back, to a happy memory, being entrusted with a weapon and duties. Proud of service, although I know the nature of that service. Is such a belonging all there is to cling to, in the shadow? Is this why it is important? Yet even this memory holds a harsh lesson, the transience of hope and pride - a lesson that fear is the only emotion to be mindful of. Yet, it is ignored, because the author again thinks of happy memories of a past life. Of friends, to celebrate happy memories. Such hope for comradeship, they seem so normal, so...familiar.

5
Fear again. This time, fear of relying on others, of a task undone and a life ended. Perhaps justified, even if never actualized on this point. The author chafes at not having control of the outcome of events. A revealing thought, the author does not lie outright. Rather, relies on misdirection, absence of speech. And fears being caught out. By who? Next, a genuine interest, not born of survival: stories, tales, the written word. Another address to the author, a thing from within, perhaps? Even the torture is to be retold so it is known. The author wishes us to believe tat the telling is not painful, only the meditative memory. Perhaps, or perhaps a mark of the suffering ongoing. Not healed. A picture at the end. Why? It brings happiness perhaps? Creativity. Uncertain.

6
The purpose bears heavy here. Fear, again, of betrayal by new allies. Distrust. Yet fearful of battle between those new and old. Always cautious. This is ever a feature of the author's thoughts, at least as written. Yet, even as there is mistrust, there is a search for opportunity to complete the purpose. The author turns to each group of relevance and assesses each. What comes out? A fear of judgment for past sins. A lack of trust for those who express a desire to aid. Scorn for those of narrow, rigid view, and those trapped slavishly by the dictats of history. Hopeful prayers for salvation, looking to the moon, and another message to the reader, with hope for more entries - life valued still then.

7
Begins with happy news, yet delivered as if it is bitter. Tells of purpose discharged, and the gift of a blade. Can read the smile there! The last smile though, the author is burdened by old allies, kept on a leash. Words speaking of disloyalty stung the author, still. Conflicted, then. And loyalty is important to the author. Fear evident still, fear of old comrades, fear of being hunted. No succour in new ally. Evidently believes him weak. Fear is so great that the author considers submission to it, and to death. A brief mention of joy, the hope of another, not the author. The sentence is not finished. Why? The author speaks to the reader gain, another important thing in the return of a taken voice. An important thing, perhaps, not written with fervour. I wonder at this dissonance. If this can be of so little comment...perhaps even the strongest seed will not grow in soil of fear and misery?

8
The author weighs its own life in the palm of its hand. Again, mention of purpose - no purpose but continuance, now, it seems. Why does the author talk then of suicide? Is that where thoughts had strayed, before putting pen to paper? What is the connection between this ennui and what is written? Set in the other palm is evidence of past misdeeds, with words to justify. Wonders if a man will judge. Is the thing then a totem of guilt? Again the author talks of purpose, scorning advice of others who advise only survival. The author longs to be something of note, it seems. To be more than mundane. So the author seeks to win safety. Yet the author is afraid.

9
A dark, gloomy tale. A tale of an unfamiliar man and his son, a talk prayers for salvation. The author does not know where to pray - does not know what ideals to aspire to. Pain in this, dismay. Then hopelessness, that much is clear. Has guidance been insufficient? Have words focused on things too small? Snatched moments, pragmatic only. Blinded by petty things. One may think any aid provided was only small steps. Perhaps they were.

10
Some pride in the ease in adopting the manners of others. Enjoyment in using skills learned? A disturbing tale recalled, of pain, of cleansing fire, perhaps? And then the topic changes. The author muses on...redemption? On the idea that bitter thoughts fade before rising hope. The author dismisses this, but to have written it at all, what does that mean? Seeds growing, perhaps. Loneliness then returns, the author yearns for company. Too much time alone. Thoughts dwell to safety. And a saviour. One taking action. And at the end? Hope for a simple pastime.

11
Rage. Betrayal. The author looks about and sees no safety, no succour. Former words of friendship now seen as lies, meant to entrap. Contempt for living as a hunted animal. Rejection of a hopeless life of hardship. A flowering of mistrust. Words meant to soothe now seen as strength sapping poison - lies to weaken the author. Comradeship now seen as parasitic conquest. Reference to touch *the ink blots*

Summary

I see themes now. Hope struggling to survive among fear and suffering. Curiosity, conviviality, art. Wit and adaptability. Mistrust, guilt, deceit. A desire to belong, a commitment to purpose, a desire to be something. Dismay at becoming nothing.

The author feels she has given. She has, given much, given where she began. What has she received, in truth? What has anyone offered her? What sacrifice has been made? She hates, she turns her back, she rejects. Was she the first, though, during the chapter of her life narrated here?
Vadim Morozov, Dreadmaster.
Former Characters: Mel Darenda, Daug'aonar, Dural Narkisi, Cynric Greyfox, Ameris Santraeger, Cosimo Delucca, Talas Marsak.
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