Role

Chapter 6

| me and I will take their judgement of me in lieu of my own. I was |
| raised to a full Acolyte within the Fortress by Lady Azorinne, |
| Judgement incarnate, and I would not presume to question her |
| choice. I carry the trust she places in me as a flame - and warm |
| my spirit with it even when I feel the coldest. As I do now. |
| |
| One can easily forget that the Fortress of Light is, |
| fundamentally, constructed of people. Each is lovely, pure of |
| heart and action, but I feel the spirit wavers. To me it seems a |
| place of individuals with a shared goal and little shared |
| understanding. Perhaps I am still too new, or simply unable to |
| recognize comradery, but I feel the spirit could be stronger, and |
| fear that a single united enemy could overwhelm us with simple |
| determination. I have decided that it is my mission to get to |
| know every one of my fellows, find ways to help them know each |
| other better so they may help each other grow, and ultimately |
| grow the the Fortress into a solid bulwark against the Dark. |
| |
| My conversation with Lady Azorinne was glorious, and I will tell |
| you of it in a future letter. That I will never send. |
| |
| Writing this was a mistake. I thought it would help. |
| |
| Who were you? I don't even remember your name. |
| |
| Love (I hope. I like to imagine), |
| Bazz |
| |
/-------------------------------------------------------------------\
*Bathed in candlelight, Bazz carefully cleans ink from his pen and
sets it aside on the desk. He picks up the letter he has written,
and after folding it neatly, slides into a brilliant crimson
envelope. Slowly, reverently, he places the letter before him. He
stares at it again for a moment, then drops his head into his hands.
His silent tears soak the fine paper until the envelope darkens to
the shade of blood.*

*After some time, in a single motion, Bazz flicks the letter into a
nearby fireplace. It holds its shape briefly, steaming. Then, in a
burst of flame, it is gone.*