Role

Chapter 3

The code thus far has been never to harm a woman. I have made the mistake of
knocking one or two out in my day, and even mistaking some for men, but none
were ever killed, and all were set free and befriended. I have a wondrous
appreciation for all of the fine things in this world, and therefore the
finer of all species must be only for my intrigue and pleasure, and not for
the pleasure of murder.

I do not fight those outmatched already, and in instances where more than one
or two combatants face another, I am the balancer. This is my service to the
balance, and to my will. I will not watch as others bully around the helpless
to defend themselves.

I will kill anyone who I have not met that is not a woman, and it is nothing
personal of course. I am a pure bandit at heart, little did my kidnappers of
over a century ago know. I seek to perfect my art, and fill the guild chests
with gold and treasures untold.

The life of an adventurer is deadly for all. For why did they choose to be a
warrior, an invoker of arcane destruction, and so on? Because the life of a
farmer did not present the risk they desired. It is quite unfortunate that
many forget this, and none, even I, are free from death.

I try to show as much respect as a kidnapper can, and even have set free the
occassional who is useful alive, or not as an enemy. Fear has an amazing
power to convert the most hardened evil man into someone who submits that a
bit of respect and honor is deserved even when you are a dealer of death.

I had once rarely killed those of the light, untill I discovered that their
trustworthiness is outweighed by their lack of faith in their own word,
religeon, or duty, whatever the case be. Testing the waters with a bit of
pain is a good way to discover this. It is still often that I rob and not
kill the children of the sun, but they too chose a life as I did, it is not
for me to be any less of a force.

I have never hesitated, never wimped out in a fight in my life, and have only
retreated for tactics of failing a strike. Hesitation has only been to
observe for a right moment, perhaps a shapeshifter giving me something more
to rob than fleas or more to tie than wings or scales, or perhaps just a
moment where they may not be paying attention to their surroundings.

Some perceive my lack of hesitation as suicidal, but...we all die one day. It
is not for me to decide, and hesitation is a waste of already short life.
This above all has come true and obvious most in my old age.