Blectl Kinkiller the Legend of the Battlefield

Role

Chapter 5

I heard once that there's no substitution for experience. Like a good halberd
though, it cuts both ways. Figure some things I'd rather not experience but all
in all I think that's true. Nobody can tell you how it feels to finally meet
with a god, much less the one to whom you've pledged. You just have to go
through it to understand. You think you know what they'll be like, but you
can't help but base it on your own, mortal, perspectives. And that's just
flawed from the start. Being lucky enough now to have spoken with three or
four has changed me, I'll tell you that, though in some ways I can't even
explain. I will tell you that hearing praise from the Imperator was close to
the best thing in my life since... since. No I'm not crying! Don't make me
stick you like a boar. Where was I?

All of that's well and good but it's icing, not the meal, and life's for living
and I'm mortal so that's what I've gotta do. I realized yesterday that I can't
quite make out all the little features of Gregr's face anymore. I feel like a
part of me is dying now, dying like he did but taking much longer. I try to
console myself with the idea that the blood of these selfish magic-greedy people
does something to wash away my guilt, something to give him joy wherever he is
now. I swear to Akresius I believe it but somewhere deep inside I can't help
but doubt. I don't know where he is, what he's become, even if he's become
anything at all. But I can't, I won't stop now. Ever. He deserves at least
this much from me, and I won't fail him again. I don't know why these others
I've joined fight as they do - what do these drow or fire giants know of doing
what's best for all thera? - but they do, and even if they are sometimes worse
than a pack of schoolgirls fighting over a hairpin I've come to call the place
home not just in name but in heart. The question now is how to transform
personal into wider victory. I've done well in my combat, and I will continue,
but I'm not fool enough to think I can do it alone, forever. It is this ragtag
bunch of villagers that needs to be the army that does the job, and inspires
others to do so as well. To create from this muck and blood and gore something
beautiful that will show the rest of thera the righteousness of our cause. I
don't know what that is yet, but that's what I'll be thinking about. Now stop
just sitting there and go refill the jug. New batch from Akan I want to try.

Role

Chapter 4

When you put it that way, I guess it isn't so different now. Getting the
hut from the drillmaster was a big day, and I have more tools now than I
did before, but in the end I'm doing what I'd have been doing anyway. Sure
there're more people to talk to, some new responsibilities to these other
people, and a lot of holding my nose around foul smelling fire giants and
the like, but all in all I'd say it's become more a part of what I do rather
than changing what I do. Some of them seem like people I'd have been friends
with, back when I had friends, and most of them at least have my respect.
One or two have neither my like nor my respect but nobody's perfect and I'm
holding judgment until more time's passed. Can't imagine what they think of
me and honestly I'm not sure I care. I've been spending a lot of my time
honing skills, trying to live up to the Imperator's standards, and, a bit
of a revelation for me, even more important, my own standards. While I may
have once followed that path for his praise, now I follow it because it's
just right. I hear these others announce their small victories or defeats,
and come up with all the excuses why they fall or how much better they are
than their enemies (one in particular was so absurdly demeaning it was almost;role + surely a sign of mental illness) and I cringe. The first time or two I fell
I had to bite my lip and use discipline to keep from sniping at my foe, but
now it is merely instinct, for what purpose is served? The combat was its own
reward, and victory is not only in the moment, it is the long game, and in the
end it will be mine.

But since you're buying this round I'll offer up one bit of complaint: all
these orcs! And others that I find foul but would pass by in search of my
true prey. I admit no part of me saddens when these scum fall, but while
all the mages seem to run away and hide so I can hardly ever find and fight
one let alone kill her, all these other orcs and imperial slaves and people
who don't seem to have any point at all just come up and make annoyances of
themselves. You know how it is. I value the melee and in the moments of
movement and the planning for battles I cannot complain, but seeing the forest
for the tress I must say it does not bode well for the war against magic itself.
It's almost as if the mages are using all these others as stooges, keeping me
and the others busy while they grow strong. Remind me when I'm sober again
so I remember, that I and all of us need to redouble our efforts to keep our
eyes on the prize and not be diverted. Now enough of that, pass me some of
that mutton. I've had so much venison, that Grime seems to have nothing but
deer in his pasture!

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.

Role

Chapter 2

my friends had enjoyed, lost any desire to hold ties to the past.
Gained a new path, and a determination. Something colder, something hard,
something measurable and allowing for success even in the face of tragedy.
What is this path, this epiphany you ask? I had to kill my brother because
his despair over the death of his love corrupted him. And that would never
have happened if she had not died. And she would not have died if magic
had not gone awry. Some say magic is a tool, and surely it is. Like a
sword. Like an oar. But unlike a sword or an oar, magic is simply beyond
the wisdom of mortals. It is and has been hubris that makes people think
they can control what is inherently uncontrollable. It is a sad truth,
and one that will make for a difficult life, but no victory, no achievement,
is worthwhile if it is too simple. And while nothing can redeem my brother,
the future can be spared such nightmares. To this I dedicate my life.

Role

Chapter 1

They say there's nothing worse than having a child die. Maybe that's
true, I don't know, but I can tell you that killing a sibling is
no picnic. Like a parent losing a child I'd think, it's the kind of
thing you play in your head over and over and over and even if a
small weak voice keeps saying it wasn't your fault, there was nothing
you could do. That voice may as well be a guppy bumping up against
whale. I once heard a triton talk about some little humans who came
to the coral palace, obviously too young to swim, let alone fight.
It wasn't pretty they said and nothing they could say would dissuade
the kids and sure enough each of them got sizzled by an eel that would
make a grown woman pause. But I digress.

Whoever said that talking about it helps was obviously stealing from
Olin because there really isn't anything that helps. You just learn to
live with it. The real question is how you live with it, what you do
with your life. I had dreams of being a builder, or maybe a sailor,
or even just a baker. Maybe finding a man who liked the look of me,
and I liked the look of him. Maybe have a family. Nice dreams, don't
you think? That's not going to happen, now.

When you're still young enough to be in university, still living with
your family, but old enough to be close to being called an adult, you
don't think anything truly bad can happen. Not news, I know. When your
brother asks you to help him win the girl of his dreams, to chip in with
some silver so he can go to land and buy a love potion, to go with him
and find just the right jewelry and gifts, of course you go. You make
fun of him and give him a hard time, but you go. Of course you go.
And when the well-meaning alchemist brews your potion, when the well-
meaning transmuter gives gills to his heart's desire because the silly
boy went and fell in love with an elf, when somehow these fail, fail
in such horrible and still unclear ways to result in her painful and
slow death, well, you don't understand how it can happen. Nothing that
bad is supposed to happen. We're too young. Life isn't this cruel. But
when something inside your brother just breaks, and he becomes something
new, something ugly, something abhorrent, then you know that life
really is that cruel. Worse. Because now your brother has slaved himself
to the dark knight guild, begging for the means to kill the mages who had
caused his love's life. And because now it's your job to stop him.

Maybe one day I'll tell you how that went down. I'm not in the mood right
now, and honestly I don't think it matters, at least for now. What does
matter I suppose is what happened after, and where I am now. Going home
with the body of your dead brother isn't exactly what they make parades
for, and there was no way I could live there anymore anyway, so shortly
both lost and gained. Lost my hazy plans for life, lost the easy smile

Immortal Comments

PK Gank-O-Meter

PK Statistics

Skill List

Skill List

Title History

Arena Statistics

PK Wins

PK Wins

PK Deaths

Leveling History

Timeline

Mob Deaths

Edges

Flaws

Racial Edges

Class Edges

Edges