(The Provinces: 196 Uthmor 361)
He walks into the room, his eyes sunken and weary. He opens his mouth to talk but finds the words hard to form. His hands run through his hair as he shakes his head trying to clear his thoughts. His head rolls side to side as he composes himself further to speak. The burden of many thoughts evident in his eyes.
"I spoke with Natashya last night. Do nay ask why I believe her, call it a feeling. An ability to read that which is held within." His eyes lower again. So many thoughts, so hard to speak. "The issue is greater with Lissanda then just the lovelust of a fire mage. Natashaya alluded to death being the only out. But, whose death I ask ye? I am nay a fool, I know the odds against me. Call me one who hopes it is nay the death of one I care for." Rubs his temples as memories return. "One named Tigron delivered his message to me in a most pounding fashion. A lead pipe from hiding is nay a pleasant experience." Shakes his head in frustration. "I have heard comments that have returned to me about my words that night on the gweth. How little trust and understanding is there left in the lands?" Sighs heavily as he sits back to think.
His mouth opens again a passion in his eyes before his gaze lowers, "Do ye nay realize that impressions must be left with the enemy? How do ye propose to cause them to error? Isn’t anger, pride, a false sense of victory effective ways to cause an error in judgement?" He licks his lips as his eyes raise. "I have done what I have been able. I spoke in taunts, I ranted and raved about their stupidity only to rouse anger and force a mistake. One mistake they already made and the vile Tigron found himself trapped behind the manor hutch for 10 roisen. So, I spoke forth to the wounded pride of the shadowy assassin. To lure, to provoke, To draw him forth." Bites down on his lower lip a moment. "The plan failed. I was killed, it happens. It wounded my pride. But, proved that they have pride as well. Pride that causes actions to occur that lack wisdom. Only through a piece of luck did Tigron succeed. Even one minute difference in choices on my part and those with me would have spelled his end." Leans back a moment to think further, his hand comes to his chin.
"Many have lent aid with nay gain but to stand for what is right. The time comes soon. The events are in motion. In all my years in the lands I have nay ever felt such, bah, what is the word or words for what I feel?" His hands come to his face rubbing away the weary look as best as he is able. "The Grobesh wars will be nay a thing compared to what I sense comes. Yet I look around and do nay see the preperations that will be needed. Sorrow has lulled us into believing the threat has passed. It has nay passed. The time of battle comes soon. For some such as Lissanda and I, and those who will lend aid the battle is now. For the rest of ye, who knows?" His eyes gain a fire. "Perhaps if we defeat Sadiaer, perhaps." His voice trails off a moment as his eyes bertray the inner workings in his mind. "Perhaps, if they can be stopped now the rest of the lands will nay suffer." His expression open as he looks outward. "I ask for trust. I ask for aid. I ask for those with the heart and will to stand against Sorrow, and Sadiaer and the evil they bring forth. The time is now. The hour at hand for deeds of worth. For people to rise and take a stand. My path is clearly laid before me. Perhaps in that way I have it easier than others." His eyes reveal no indecision, only that certain look. The look of one knowing they face death, willingly. It is not resignation, perhaps fate. Perhaps honor. perhaps believeing in something beyond the mundane. His lips moist as he speaks, "What shall become of all of us is in our hands. What we do will determine our fate, the fate of others, the fate of our children and their children. In the past our ancestors did nay finish the task. They were lulled into apathy and allowed Sorrow to live on. I beg of all of ye that our generation nay committ the same error of those before us. It is on our heads." His eyes harden in reslove. "It is our task to end the terror that Sorrow brings. Take up arms. Train, spread the word to all. The time for battle is nigh on hand." He stands and turns, His pace measured. he turns back to speak. "May Chadatru grant ye the foresight to do the right, to walk the path of justice" He turns and walks out into the muggy night. His path leading home to Haven.