Ironworks Gaming Forum - View Single Post - Part 6>>>The Shadow of Love (an LoF adventure)

Cyril Darkcloud · 06-03-2005, 11:33 PM

Elsewhere – Beneath the terrible closeness of the Sky

He nods. So simply the Mage has named that which separates and distinguishes them, and yet so readily has he overlooked it. Power. Still he persists in the foolish equation of greatness with might. Indeed, such an insistence is even more emphatic within the mage than even during the great struggle when a misplaced trust in the power of the Ring precipitated his downfall. Yes, there is now a focus about this One that had been lacking in that prior struggle and this makes him exceedingly dangerous, dangerous enough that he might well prove his equation of might with greatness to be true against all other claims. But claims are things the man of stormy quiet knows well for his tale is the tale of a life that has been seized and claimed and yet is still his own. A man of the relentless and defiant assertion of freedom he has long ago rejected that fancy of vacant lives that freedom is matter of becoming and doing all that one would wish in favor of the wisdom that holds the truly free is that one capable of saying no to all things save that single thing that he would become and do.

“It remains to be seen,” he says simply, “whether the lack of a conscience is truly a strength, or merely the crutch of self-deception.” The hatred he bears for this One of Modding Shadow smolders still within him, but his will remains sure in its choice. “Be it strength, or be it weakness, however, conscience has here bid me pause while license demands your slaughter.” He pauses and looks at the Mage with eyes that disclose nothing of conscience nor of hatred, merely a cold and focused appraisal. When he speaks again it is not in the clumsy tongue of that outsider land of IronWorks but in the language of ha’am ha’shama’im -- the People of the Sky, {{Despite your power, you stand here, a stranger within your own game seeking war where there is none to be found.}} His eyes move upward and widen at the sight of the silent expanse of the Sky and his voice drops to a whisper, a whisper that is more clear in its near silence than the thunder so many associate with his presence. {{I submit to the demand of no tale save my own.}}

[ 06-03-2005, 11:39 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]

06-03-2005, 11:33 PM	#126
Cyril Darkcloud Lord Soth Join Date: February 7, 2002 Location: New York Posts: 1,980	Elsewhere – Beneath the terrible closeness of the Sky He nods. So simply the Mage has named that which separates and distinguishes them, and yet so readily has he overlooked it. Power. Still he persists in the foolish equation of greatness with might. Indeed, such an insistence is even more emphatic within the mage than even during the great struggle when a misplaced trust in the power of the Ring precipitated his downfall. Yes, there is now a focus about this One that had been lacking in that prior struggle and this makes him exceedingly dangerous, dangerous enough that he might well prove his equation of might with greatness to be true against all other claims. But claims are things the man of stormy quiet knows well for his tale is the tale of a life that has been seized and claimed and yet is still his own. A man of the relentless and defiant assertion of freedom he has long ago rejected that fancy of vacant lives that freedom is matter of becoming and doing all that one would wish in favor of the wisdom that holds the truly free is that one capable of saying no to all things save that single thing that he would become and do. “It remains to be seen,” he says simply, “whether the lack of a conscience is truly a strength, or merely the crutch of self-deception.” The hatred he bears for this One of Modding Shadow smolders still within him, but his will remains sure in its choice. “Be it strength, or be it weakness, however, conscience has here bid me pause while license demands your slaughter.” He pauses and looks at the Mage with eyes that disclose nothing of conscience nor of hatred, merely a cold and focused appraisal. When he speaks again it is not in the clumsy tongue of that outsider land of IronWorks but in the language of ha’am ha’shama’im -- the People of the Sky, {{Despite your power, you stand here, a stranger within your own game seeking war where there is none to be found.}} His eyes move upward and widen at the sight of the silent expanse of the Sky and his voice drops to a whisper, a whisper that is more clear in its near silence than the thunder so many associate with his presence. {{I submit to the demand of no tale save my own.}} [ 06-03-2005, 11:39 PM: Message edited by: Cyril Darkcloud ]