Role

Chapter 3

Yes, yes, you're right. I'm talking more than usual. What was it you said,
I'm not my usual laconic self? Well you drink a case of this Proudfoot ale
and you see just how chatty you become. What's that? Yes, it felt good
blooding my weapons on the corpse of that first mage. Maybe too good.
I don't know about you but I didn't grow up wanting to be a killer. And
now that I must, I will do it as well as possible, not because I enjoy death
but because if you're going to do something, do it right. And if that
something is very worthwhile, if it's so important both personally but
for a larger world, then you have to be the best, to take what is usually
ugly and dark and make from it something beautiful, something to admire,
something hard as steel with few if any flaws. I wonder sometimes if
Gregr would want this for me, for my life. Before he became what he did at
the end I mean. And I think probably not. Who wants this life for a sister?
But I think he would understand. And wherever he is, I know each drop of
blood from the dangerbringers - that's those that use magic as mortals -
becomes good strong ale for him to drink in his new life. Still, even after
bringing death to others, and knowing it myself, my mind goes back to that
first kill, that moment. I don't think I'll ever forget that. I know that
the day will come when my blade slices through a different sort of mage,
not a vile necromancer like the first, but rather one who thinks she's
doing the work of goodness. I don't look forward to that. But better that
than the danger magic brings. And hopefully after they fall and they hear
my words, they will change their ways. No one said it would be an easy
path, but it must be trod. Magic is not a tool like others, like a weapon
or anything else. Only magic can cause such widesweeping and unforeseen
consequences. Those who claim magic is merely a tool are deceiving
themselves, and must be set aright, or removed. A sword never destroyed
an entire town. An axe never killed an entire race.

But I haven't answered your first question. Yes, I know that with the
battleragers I'll have to live side by side with filthy duergs and slimy
dark-elves and truly abhorrent fire giants, among other filth. I tell you
now I do not and will not like it, and will find a hut as far on the other
side of the village from such as I can. But am I a cow or an animal? Can
I not think, can I not decide when to use my weapons? I will share the
space and the war with those who like me have come to the wisdom of magic's
danger. I can withhold my hand until the day all magic is gone. Perhaps
then there may be a reckoning among those who remain to battle for light's
way or dark. Until then, I will do my duty. But no, don't you expect to
hear tales of Blectl traipsing through the dale with her duerg and dark-
elf friends. That day will not dawn.