Dear Faust,
Fear not! I am alive and well. I have spent these past months at home resting, training, and above all, thinking. With all due respect, I have come to the conclusion that most wizards are conniving, insufferable, baseborn scum. I have been burned, gassed, petrified, feared, doused in acid, tricked, cursed, and even killed by these magic-making lowlifes, and I owe them nothing short of the cold, steel kiss of death! Note that I said "most".
I admit that at first, I returned home in humiliation, with little intention of returning to Gaul under any circumstance. After long talks with my father, however, I am beginning to understand that my suffering has only been in vain because I have not acted on this burgeoning hatred of the supernatural. No elf can despise magic without despising himself in turn. The paradox has cleaved me inside, baring my soul to the winds of corruption. But, as I have come to realize, there need be no paradox. It is not even abnormal for an elf to feel wronged when something so inherent to his own character is used against him so often. Nor is it abnormal for said elf to feel vitriolic disdain for beings of the lesser races who make such a bloody mockery of powers beyond their comprehension.
Naturally, my thoughts of late have turned to vengeance, vengeance in its most ironic form. You claim you know what I am really up to? Then you must also understand that nothing can change my mind. Since it was those Norse magic makers and their butcher armies that have wronged me (and my kind) the most, I will start with them. Who can say where I will finish?
But you, my dear friend, shall have clemency from my wrath. Not only for our comradeship, but also because you at least embrace an art that already flows through your tiny veins, trickster though it makes you!
I fear my dreams of Fjord the Hero have perished in the flames. They are ashes on my parched lips. I thirst for nothing but the blood that will drip from Euranna's blade. There will be no retribution from the crimes that I intend to inflict!
But you will see me again,
Fjord
Fear not! I am alive and well. I have spent these past months at home resting, training, and above all, thinking. With all due respect, I have come to the conclusion that most wizards are conniving, insufferable, baseborn scum. I have been burned, gassed, petrified, feared, doused in acid, tricked, cursed, and even killed by these magic-making lowlifes, and I owe them nothing short of the cold, steel kiss of death! Note that I said "most".
I admit that at first, I returned home in humiliation, with little intention of returning to Gaul under any circumstance. After long talks with my father, however, I am beginning to understand that my suffering has only been in vain because I have not acted on this burgeoning hatred of the supernatural. No elf can despise magic without despising himself in turn. The paradox has cleaved me inside, baring my soul to the winds of corruption. But, as I have come to realize, there need be no paradox. It is not even abnormal for an elf to feel wronged when something so inherent to his own character is used against him so often. Nor is it abnormal for said elf to feel vitriolic disdain for beings of the lesser races who make such a bloody mockery of powers beyond their comprehension.
Naturally, my thoughts of late have turned to vengeance, vengeance in its most ironic form. You claim you know what I am really up to? Then you must also understand that nothing can change my mind. Since it was those Norse magic makers and their butcher armies that have wronged me (and my kind) the most, I will start with them. Who can say where I will finish?
But you, my dear friend, shall have clemency from my wrath. Not only for our comradeship, but also because you at least embrace an art that already flows through your tiny veins, trickster though it makes you!
I fear my dreams of Fjord the Hero have perished in the flames. They are ashes on my parched lips. I thirst for nothing but the blood that will drip from Euranna's blade. There will be no retribution from the crimes that I intend to inflict!
But you will see me again,
Fjord
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