Phelzhis ShankBone the Sensei, Drillmaster of Battle

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Role

Chapter 10

One other item, a mission for the Lord. It seems the warring among gods
is real. The Lord is diametrically opposed to Ishuli, the Witch.
Complete knowledge, as she propounds, contradicts the way of the Lost.
As a result, Phelzhis was asked to work to sabotage the Library, even in the smallest
possible way. To taint it, render it impure. In short, to place false information
in the Library. Phelzhis took his task seriously, and considered. The
first step was to identify someone who might actually have a chance to
submit something the Witch would include in her Library. He identified Aroyv.
Aroyv is one of her priests, in particularly an obssesed drow who lives
for poisons and venoms. Phelzhis had met him before and filed that information
for later use. Which has come. Ingratiating himself to Aroyv, Phelzis said
he would perform experiments and research into venoms of his guild.
He then took quite a while, many days, to make such a tast believable.
And then, when the time was right, he wrote a scroll detailing these "experiments"
and their results. Of course, they were entirely fabricated. False, but
contrived to be real. Aroyv seemed thankful, and it is Phelzhis' hope
his work enters the Library.

He fears Ishuli will review it closely, and then inform the priest. But even
so, that will be a success, too, as the priest will lose quite a lot of
respect. Or, it enters the library, and forever will Phelzhis and Rahsael know
the Library is compromised. Only time will tell.

Role

Chapter 9

Mundane progress has been slow and steady. Phelzis continues to have both
some success as well as real frustration with his daily life and martial
endeavors. Moves he has long mastered seem to elude him repeatedly, and often.
It has cast doubt on his existence, generally. Efficiency and competence are
his bedrock and he has spent decades at it and yet he seems to miss far
more often than expected, or others. It is vexing.

The prattling of enemies, however, is highly entertaining. Some few stand out
as execptionally dim: Erigron, Lochlan, and Tyiaquazza. Mere lies would not
be so amusing, though they do lie. No, it is their utter lack of irony. They
seek to insult, like children, and fail to see if it of themselves they speak.
Once or twice Phelzis educates them, but they are impervious to wisdom or
insight. Further loss will, perhaps, instill the lessons.

Finally, he is looking for ways to increase the interest in huts. There was
a spurt when he sent his scroll to all thera, but since then it has dried up.
He also considers seeking Jormyr to speak of the commander position. Perhaps
that might inspire more, and might make one of the current villagers into
a drillmaster, giving them further drive to wake more often. We shall see.
Far less frustrating, though no less painful, has been his non-mundane
life. After years of delving into the path of Rahsael, and with no little pain
and loss along the way, Phelzis was honored with what he had only hoped, the
darkened lantern imprinted upon his flesh. Of course, even that - or maybe even
especially that - could not be as simple as it might appear. Upon wake, it
was gone. Was it a test? An instruction in loss? Whatever the truth, in
time the Lord saw fit to restore it, rebranding Phelzhis. More, he began
Phelzis on the path down the Mysteries. More of that I will not write...
Suffice to say, Phelzis is honored beyond honor, but also faced with a decision
of especial difficulty. How it will go, even he is not entirely sure.

Role

Chapter 8

Silvis is dead. Silvis is dead. There is no other way. Silvis is dead.

Silvis is not dead. Silvis has never been dead. Silvis is...

Silvis is.

Several days have passed since the Lord's acolyte said that Silvis was somehow
in another dimension, another plane of existence. It was immediately
rejected by Phelzhis. And still he is skeptical. Even gods can be wrong. Gods
have died, have not realized other gods were plotting against them. But.
It cannot simply be discounted. It is possible it is entirely a ruse, to visit
greater Loss. To restore what had been lost, then take it away again. Phelzhis
himself is not sure which would be better.

But only the future will resolve that connundrum. Fate will bring him there.
For now, he must choose his path to that end, whatever it may be. Soul searching
is a common phrase, but it fits, for what he does. At bottom, he prizes
efficiency and logic in pursuing goals, and in this the simple fact is he cannot
discount what he's been told. He will therefore do what is necessary to follow
that information and determine what can be done. Ignoring it is not an option.

Simultaneously, he has put thought into trying to come up with the 'grand gesture'
that has been asked for. It is a difficult charge. It looks like the only
real way to accomplish this would involve a death of his own, or of someone who
depends upon him. He will look for such an opportunity.

Finally, he is exceedingly frustrated with his attempts at efficient death.
He follows and stalks for more than half a day, and his prey simply side step
his strikes. He has tried to discuss with his guildmaster, but nothing.
It is possible his frustration will leak into his daily personality.

Role

Chapter 7

In some ways he has much to be grateful for. His training has progressed
well. Despite many months of no mages awake, or difficulty finding the lone
mage who may wake every now and then, he recently has had some success. He struck
his first truly efficient butchery, a quick slice through the shifting
mage Esheneshra, while she was in the form of a boulder hawk. Quick, soundless.
Later he killed two other mages, and one warrior protector, demonstrating
the value of his fighting practice. Religiously, he has enjoyed a rare amount
of attention from Rahsael's ... high priest? Difficult to identify the right
title for this one, but nonetheless speaks with the god's voice. This led
to a particularly unpleasant, but obviously relevant incident. It has been
many days now, but he has been unable to write of it until now, though it still
remains with crystal clarity in his mind. Forced to name his family, one by one,
the name of his younger brother, Silvis, brought no response from the god's
totem of sorts. He was told this meant that Silvis's loss was not in fact a true
Loss. It was traumatic, but perhaps also pivotal. He still is unsure how it
can be so, and the Lord's acolyte has said perhaps there may be answers. But
not yet.

The thoughts do not leave him. He uses great focus on his day to day life of
war and killing, but part of his mind is ever considering that life, and what
happened to his family that set him on this path. More, he has a greater
understanding of Loss, small and large, and works to learn how to incorporate
into his interactions. He has had some success, but has vowed to improve.

Finally, he is concerned for the village. He has done some investigation
and found no time ever in the history of the village of such a long period
without any leadership at all. He has prayed to the battle gods to seek if
there is anything he can do to help that process along, presumably one
of the two heroes he's met would be named, but he has had no response.
It is his hope someones are named soon, because he believes that will be the
most likely way to encourage and inspire others to find the true war, and grow the huts.

Last, he hopes to have time to speak with some others of his guild, as he
finds his weakest link is his locating and tracking, while remaining hidden from
sight. Hopefully if nothing else practice will improve.

Role

Chapter 6

small. Loss is universal, whether realized or not. It is of value to bring on
an individual basis. But what if it could be done on a more widespread scale?
As he talked about with the lord's acolyte, each individual can experience
more acutely a different form. And that is something Phelzhis will do. But
the bedrock foundation of existence? That at any given moment one knows one's world
and the dangers within it? Breaking that surety would be a vast achievement.
A years long, lifetime long work. A loss of peace of mind which makes people
ask upon walking the lands whether he, too, walks the lands. And fearing his
presence even when he is not. Loss of sleep. Loss of freedom to act out of fear.
This is something to aspire to. He will raise it with the lord's acolyte, and perhas
the lord, when first they speak.

Finally, interpersonal interactions. He has now slain three, adding a thief and
assassin, an imperial and a tribunal, to the mage. Both struck first. Both fell.
Both then took their own lives, forever. Very odd. Phelzhis takes his oaths
seriously enough that for the most part he will not strike any who does not strike
him, unless already an enemy such as a mage, or an imperial as they are at
war as well. But at one point he hunted a mage, Galakar or some such. Instead
he was struck by a druid, Mitrial or some such. He was taken a bit by surprise,
which will not ocurr again, but then the druid called in a friend, the ranger Nyrea, who
came to fight Phelzhis two against one. Then the ranger began spewing stupidity.
Then again upon another waking. Phelzhis cares nothing for this ranger, he
is not a mage and is likely an outlander, which means nothing to Phelzhis.
But the idiocy of someone to come to fight two against one, and then have
that one begin spouting idiocy, calling Phelzhis a coward, for no reason,
simply makes no sense. In time, if the ranger becomes more than a mere stupid
pest, Phelzhis will end him. Until then, he merely laughs at him and
ignores him.

Role

Chapter 5

Phelzhis now follows two paths, mundane and religious. The mundane is his
pursuit of butchering mages often and efficiently. He is extremely devoted to
his training, a result of the exacting nature of his youth in the slaughter
house. Even his patience was tested by how long it took to find and then
end a mage, culminating when he was aided, and in turn aided, a deity whose
shrine was being defiled. The slaying of Atterpennarch was satisfyingly quick and
precise, but only after an initial stumble. It came after years, many years, of
fruitless hunting, or months of no mage walking the lands. There was no little
release in that moment, the first of what he intends to be many. With that he
returned to Tahren, with whom he had already spoken many times, having gotten
in the habit of bringing magic items for Tahren to destroy, even if he did not have
a hut already. Tahren, sensing the mage blood, offered the oath, which Phelzhis swore
without hesitation. Phelzhis then began another period of waiting, to speak
with a deity, as there are no current leaders. But his assumption that such
wait would be equally long was mistaken, and not much long after that he found
himself discussing his life with the Giant guardian of the village, and then
building his new hut. A new home for him, after having none. It awoke some
feelings in him, feelings he has not felt, or allowed himself to feel, in a long
while. He still works to be as machine like as possible, but there are chinks
in the armor.

The slaying of the mage also related to the other path, the religious. Phelzhis
had spent time hunting for the holy place of Rahsael, eventually finding
it and making a small sacrifice. A later visit afforded him a discussion with
one of the Lord's acolytes, for lack of a better descriptor. It was fruitful, both
enlightening and challenging, and led to Phelzhis' first task, to bring Loss to a
foe and to an ally. The latter is the harder by far as Phelzhis really has no allies.
There are very, very few huts, and he has not seen a single one since he has built
his own. Not one. It may be he might have to befriend someone with the sole intent
to gift them with the gift of Loss. We shall see. But as for the first, that
was accomplished, and in fact inspiring, in the true sense of the word. Atterpennarch
thought he had eluded Phelzhis, and in fact said so upon his demise. It was then
that Phelzhis had the idea that one of the best, or perhaps worst, forms of Loss is
is the loss of peace of mind. Atterpennarch did not seem particularly attached to
any of his things. He did not seem particularly upset over his death, or more than
usual anyuway. But he did seem very upst at having his belief shattered, that
how he thought he knew what lurked, or did not lurk, was wrong. That, was potent.
This has spawned the notion that he might have been thinking too

Role

Chapter 4

Phelzhis might take a life to teach a lesson. Not likely more than once or
twice for any particular offender. But people should not think they can
get away with whatever they want without some reprisal not just to teach
a lesson but also to dissuade them from distracting the villager from the
true war.

Religiously, as is likely obvious, he had no formal schooling or training
growing up, but his views and belief seem to resonate with what he has
recently heard of Rahsael. Time will tell if that is true.

Role

Chapter 3

It wasn't long before he left his village and made his way to the big
cities, finally finding a flop in Galadon, where soon enough he passed
the tests to enter the guild of assassins. Being around so many more
people of all sizes and shapes just brought him even more confirmation of
his world view. The best example was when an elf invoker used the magic
to create an apocalyptic snowstorm right at the large crossroads. Maybe
there had been a fight there or some other reason, but as the mage surely
knew, the storm remained for many, many days. And so what transpired was
a lesson in indiscriminate violence. Phelzhis himself passed through it
at one point and was seriously injured in just that moment. Had he been
retreating from a fight wounded, he would have died. Thus an elf, one
who supposedly adheres to the notion of "good" or "light", would have
killed someone she did not even know existed, totally unintentionally,
totally indiscriminately. How is that not "evil"? This is an example
of why he does not view such labels with any worth, and why he sees magic
as so abhorrent. He does not believe he personally can do what an entire
cabal has failed to do over more years than even gods can count. But he
does believe he can help make it happen. Efficiently. He will suffer
losses, but so will they, and all will be the better for it. He knows
where fate will leave him in the end. Dead. He knows he will taste
victory and triumph as well as defeat and nakedness. All of this is fated
to be. His life is his to make the path that brings him from here to there,
and now he makes no assumptions.

More personally, he is quite taciturn. If it can be said in 10 words, he
will say it in 6. Not by simply omitting verbs or broken speech like some
of the dumber races, but just by being short. He is perfectly polite and
normal in usual social interactions - he is not some socially inept recluse
who assassinates because they fear interpersonal interactions. He can even
be what some might call pleasant. But it is rare, and most would not even
see it. To some extent he is a bit machine-like, in that he has no family
or friends or hobbies or anything else to distract him from his furious focus.

But because of that lack of family, should he find himself given a hut in
the battlerager cabal, it is likely he will, over time, internalize the
others as a new family. This would mean he would become quite protective
over them, to the point where he might use his skills in ways that are not
100% "legit" in absolutely strict view of some. He would never go totally
overboard, as it would offend his own personal sensibilities on efficiency,
which means reliance upon himself. But if his particular set of skills
would allow him to make a point or two - perhaps some thief or assasin
thought to take advantage of one of the other, non-seeing villagers,

Role

Chapter 2

and keep watch on all the holdings, so straws were drawn and sad Phelzhis
had to remain home.

As could be expected, a party of mages is not like other parties. Light
shows, magical creatures, conjurations, transformations, everything you could
conceive of, and then some. But as should also be expected, so many mages
and so much magic, together with drinking and drugs of all kinds, is a
recipe for disaster. And disaster is just what they got. No one really
knows what exactly happened, but some combination of the spells and powers
at work created an explosion of massive destructive power. But not normal,
not just a big boom. Instead, it was more a shockwave spreading out from
the center of the event, a wall of irresistable energy, washing over
everything and everyon as it expanded. And unlike some kind of combustion,
this was somehow targeted: any mage it washed over felt some pressure, as
if fighting a strong wind for an instant, and then nothing more. Any non-
mage, any who had no talent for the use of magic inside them, was far less
fortunate. Any such being, from the lowliest insects to the livestock to
the people of all races, were leeched of all life, their life energies
sucked out, but not to be given to anything or anyone, just to be dissipated
instantly. It was over almost before it began, and one second later the
mages were all alone, surrounded by bodies, stretching for half a mile in
diameter.

Phelzhis, at that instant, became utterly, and completely alone. A loss of
enormous proportion, especially for a youth. Tragedy can do many things to
a person. Some grow weaker, some grow stronger. Some become more sensitive,
some grow cold and inert. Some lose all purpose, some gain a focus dizzying
to behold. Some question everything, some see new wisdom. Phelzhis was
born anew. Everything he had ever assumed about his life was wrong.
Everything he knew and believed was wrong and gone.

Or was it? He was trained to kill. He was trained to do so as efficiently
as possible. He was given confirmation of mortality. He was given wisdom
on loss. And he was given something perhaps more precious than anything
else. Purpose. It was not difficult to see how the blades use to butcher
livestock were similar to the blades used to butcher people. And now he had
new subjects for his work, mages. It was not mere revenge. It was not
simply anger or rage. What really did it was the total indifference, no,
the total lack of any intent. Pure happenstance. Pure accident. Every-
thing he was, everything he'd been taught, everything he'd lived with his
whole life was the opposite, was to act with deliberate skill and with as
little room for error as possible. It not just offended him, it incensed
him that this local genocide was a total waste and completely unintended.
And to add salt to the open wound, none of the mages really seemed to
care.

Role

Chapter 1

Can you ever be sure where your belief system comes from? Nature vs. nuture?
Outside forces? Some races are evil from the instant they are born, even
before they could think a thought or do a deed. Others are born to families
without any preconceived morality, ethos, or belief of any kind. What then
makes someone, anyone, something? And, perhaps more important, must you
"be" something, at all? And if you are not something, is thinking about
not being something, making you something after all?

These are questions Phelzhis sometimes considers. He does not really think
there is so much as 'good' or 'evil' or 'neutral'. Others undoubtedly will
view him and attempt to label him, but for himself, he sees little if
any value in such. Is that odd? Do most people think of themselves in terms
of being good or evil or something else? Perhaps. What then, does he think
and how does he behave accordingly?

For most of his youth he was reactive. Survivalist. Conforming to most of
the usual human childhood tropes. But no real friends. No real significant
relationships outside his family. He saw no need, and what needs he had
were satisfied by his siblings, parents, and cousins. He was deterministic
in that he believed his life would enfold as it would enfold without much
if any impact on it by any actions of his. He would follow his father's
path, and his father's father before him, going back generations: butchers.
He learned from an early age how to slaughter and kill in the most efficient
and painless ways, as his forebears had no interest in causing more pain to
the animals than necessary. Knives of all sorts were always around and
became as innocuous as blankets or quills. And life as a butcher has the
affect of making you view life differently than those not around death every
day, every hour. For Phelzhis it makes life both more precious, and less.
In fact, as a result he sees all beings mostly as one of two types: mortal
or not mortal. All the various races are just mortals of one kind or
another, and for him that makes them all equal, because every single one of
them is destined to die. Death is nothing to him, or at least nothing
special. When it is fated, you die.

Except, of course, when it becomes personal. Perhaps it was the indifference
of it all. The fact that it wasn't even the intented purpose was especially
impactful. A celebration for some local enclave of mages. Various races,
various guilds, something they accomplished. The details were never clear to
Phelzhis. But they ordered such quantities of meat! His father needed the
help of all the family. Cattle, lambs, pigs, even some of the exotic beasts
were butchered. So much so that the whole extended family was asked to
attend and continue providing meat to be prepared immediately, to order,
and aid in the general service. Still, one member of the family had to stay

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