Wind Off the Sharp Flats


Tis the destiny of some to be royal or nobility and to sit upon their thrones adored…but this is not my destiny…Tis the destiny of others to serve nobly in the hopes of protecting their kingdom and their loved ones by joining the military forces…but this is not my destiny. Still yet, tis the destiny of some to be heroes, cherished by the land and devoted to seeking out evil and destroying it, seeming to come out of any battle still alive…yet…this is not my destiny. No, my destiny takes a much harder route. It is my adventuring party’s destiny to be those who do what they believe is right…for the good of all. Sometimes, this requires going against established ideas, and sometimes, it coexists. We do not work to be cherished by the people. In fact, as I write this memoir, the council is no doubt finding out our works and beginning to hunt us…no longer are we regarded as a band of valor, but rather as one of corruption and as the causers of chaos. We have destroyed the Shesh Noshyn…the council’s only hope of gaining the power to stop the Nebyshin plan. However, by destroying these things, we have prevented the goblinoid threat from ever arising. History may record us as villains or more favorably as vigilantes…but never as heroes. Ours is not the glorious and noble life. Ours is the life of doing what is right even when no one else can see how it is right…perhaps, one will come upon this parchment I now bury within a scroll case within the daggerous plains. Perhaps you will think more fondly on us if you have seen the truth of our actions. But now, the sun rises in the east and a sharp, warm wind blows upon us, sending sand into our faces. We must wander on, never to reveal our success, never to take credit for it…but to take the blame. There are more wrongs that must be righted, more thankless and terrible jobs to be done, and our band of vigilantes is is called once again. We hear of a great terror in the north, closer to the mountains. We shall be anonymous there, and through our anonymity, we shall do good. Now our band must set off. Falia, an elf with unmatched finesse in the wielding of two blades, calls to her primate companion lamar, to rise from sleep. Aramil, the cunning and charismatic rogue yawns sleepily and tightens the strings of his lyre. My good friend Ebon Sergin, a lord of Etidel who has come through the shade of death to fight on, is already awake and practicing with his oversized blade. Lucian, a master of the arts of the divine and the art of insults, is meditating now for the new day. Our companion, Xill is elsewhere, no doubt sitting atop a dune and listening to the wind pass over his savage features. And I Sawrenacio Neltaress now stand and gather my staff. My destiny is not a pleasurable one, for there is no thanks, nor often reward, save the knowledge that I fight for the good of a hurting world. I bid you good day to whoever may read this.

You, finder, have now read the account from the hand of the one who decided to destroy the Shesh Noshyn…fight with me to save our world…
Sawrenacio, Slayer of Dragons



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