Role

Chapter 3

I thought it odd when the duergar approached me. Mostly because he was a
duergar, but also because he was one of Droghnund's soldiers. Droghnund
certainly isn't the type for duels; we have that in common I suppose. But
here was Dragrahl, asking that I grant him honorable combat. Fair enough.
If this is the manner in which he would taste judgment then so be it.

We converge on Evermoon Hollow. Perhaps the sylvans sensed something was
amiss. For whatever reason, they seemed oddly scarce that day. It was at
the altar that our paths finally met. He noddded, and it began.
Regrettably, before I could react, I felt the heavy weight of his
blackjack at the base of my skull. An ignominious beginning to combat,
but I would not deny him the craft of his guild.

I felt myself lightened of those few things I carried, as I struggled to
regain consciousness. Dimly I was aware of ropes being bound around my
extremities. Then, all of a sudden, the fight had begun. In hindsight it
was probably a poor choice, but I broke his wrist, and then his shoulder.
He sustained grievous wounds. Then, befrore I knew it he was gone,
running for safety. "Yeh win," he shouted, as he sped away.

Close on his heels, I encountered my stolen items at the gates to
Ar'toldein. This duergar had some honor after all. Uncommon, but a
pleasant surprise. Nevertheless, our duel complete, the larger struggle
resumed. Stepping into the forest, he was nowhere to be seen. I had
expected him to run for the safety of the village, but it seemed ulikely
that he would have made it to Gol'golath already.

Sure enough, he had paused near the bandit's camp to lick his wounds. It
was his undoing, and mine, perhaps. Almost before his body hit the
ground, the duergar's voice reached out to me from across Thera. "Yeh
have no honor? I said yeh'd won!" His words stung. Many times I have
weathered the insults and mockery of the wicked, and will do so again, but
this accusation was different.

I would not knowingly commit treachery, even against a duergar, but there
was no way to convince him of this fact. Are not duels to the death?
Was I justified in pursuing once he had declared me victor of the duel?
Or, in my zeal, had I become that which I seek to destroy?

I pray that the Keeper grant me the wisdom to make sense of these events,
and the humility to atone if my actions were in error.