Help Us Hope - Wil - 03.12.19 (Season 5 Finale)
Dec 5, 2019 16:58:22 GMT
Ian (Menace), Jamie J, and 1 more like this
Post by Wil Frozendagger on Dec 5, 2019 16:58:22 GMT
First entry in the journal of Wil Frozendagger
If you are reading this, you have somehow come into the possession of the journal of Wil Frozendagger, first of my name, titleless, the Seventeeth Crowned-In-Scars, Head and Chieftain of Clan Frozendagger. That probably doesn't mean anything to you and I can tell you that at the moment, it's a pretty empty list of titles. Like, no shit I'm the head of the clan when there's nobody else, right? One day I'll elaborate on how I came to be in Kantas and how I am the last of my peoples but now isn't the time. Not yet, not while I'm still new to writing anything longer than a sign.
If by some stroke of luck you know me and are reading this, I'm probably dead again, either that or you've broken into my room. If you have broken in to my room, please choose which hand you like the most by the time I find you.
So the reason why I'm writing this is that I realise that it's all well and good telling stories about the things I and my family have gotten up to but there will come a point where I'll be gone. Then to whom will I tell our legends, who will keep our memory alive? Dear reader, I hope that will be you.
First off, let me explain some things. A lot of people seem to think I do things weirdly. What I mean is a lot of people seem to think I'm some kind of maniac murderer or some kind of bloodthirsty I don't know what. And that isn't quite right. I'll be honest enough to say that yeah, I do enjoy fighting. The thrill of battle, the daring and the risks fills one with an energy that can seldom be found anywhere else, no matter how many tankards you down or skirts you chase, but it's not as if I go looking to kill people. I simply just honour our family laws. There are several but this is a simple one.
To be prepared to kill one must also be prepared to die.
Simple enough, right? It's about conviction, you see. If you do not have the heart to die for what you believe in, then you cannot fight with your full strength. Turn that around, and if you're going so far as murder, you cannot really blame anyone for reacting in kind.
It's about respect really. Respect for your opponents and respect for the spirit of battle itself. To attempt to show mercy in the face of it, to attempt to take some high ground in the matter is the height of arrogance, as if to say that none of the fighting matters. That is disrespect, for your opponent, for yourself and for your ancestors. No, mercy is fine for those who haven't fully accepted the wages of war, but to those who are prepared to kill, especially without preparing to die, mercy is wasted on them.
Not many people understand this and it's difficult for me to explain to them why that is, my head doesn't work that fast and I don't have enough time to recount the tales of the Frozen Dagger, the Bulwark, the Wronged, the Waveborn or all the other Frozendaggers to tell them why. But writing lets me think long enough to get this down.
I'm saying all this because I've just come back from war. There is a country called Kul Goran that was besieged by giants, whilst goblins tried to seize territory and elves attempted to stop the bloodshed. That's a really shortened version but one day, once I've collected enough accounts from others, I might just write a full chronicle about it. But small steps first, right? A party of six of us, all familiar to each other were sent to Nrav'garat to help with the war effort, specifically to help rescue some families. Taz, a dragonborn friend of mine specifically came out to fight, whereas Sheryl, a halfling friend, wanted to resolve the conflict with as little bloodshed as possible and peace on all sides. They are my friends but they are naive. There are no winners in war, only losers. Your only hope is to fight for what you believe in earnestly and to the end.
We tried to reach the family without alerting the goblin and giant troops. We failed. As the goblins charged, I tried to get them to scatter, Kelemvor knows I did. But they shot me. So I abided by the family laws.
I did this for my friends, and I did this for Kul Goran, but when Sheryl and I reached the children in the house, to her they showed warmth, and to me only fear. I silently remarked to myself then about what kind of a chieftain I was when I couldn't even inspire any confidence into the people I was trying to protect. It does make sense, after all, until very recently I had very little to protect, but it still hurts anyway. On that field of battle I saw so many examples of leadership, from Sheryl, from Matthew, from Arkadius, even from that blasted cur Menace (One day I'll tell you about that) and I realised that that's what I wanted to be. One of these days. But I'm not quite there yet.
Even as we faced the fire giant, even as I sundered its mind so that it ran from me, even as I blasted him halfway to oblivion whilst almost being there myself, I realised that while I had almost matched the Frozen Dagger in sheer power, I wasn't nearly as close to him as a commander. I could not match him in times of peace. As I am now, I cannot honour their memory.
The ground was rent into great fissures after the war had ended, but yet again that is a story for another time. I must consult the legends once again to see what path I should take to emulate my forefathers, and dear reader, I hope you read on and find that I have succeeded in my task.
Forever are we glorious,
Wil Frozendagger
If you are reading this, you have somehow come into the possession of the journal of Wil Frozendagger, first of my name, titleless, the Seventeeth Crowned-In-Scars, Head and Chieftain of Clan Frozendagger. That probably doesn't mean anything to you and I can tell you that at the moment, it's a pretty empty list of titles. Like, no shit I'm the head of the clan when there's nobody else, right? One day I'll elaborate on how I came to be in Kantas and how I am the last of my peoples but now isn't the time. Not yet, not while I'm still new to writing anything longer than a sign.
If by some stroke of luck you know me and are reading this, I'm probably dead again, either that or you've broken into my room. If you have broken in to my room, please choose which hand you like the most by the time I find you.
So the reason why I'm writing this is that I realise that it's all well and good telling stories about the things I and my family have gotten up to but there will come a point where I'll be gone. Then to whom will I tell our legends, who will keep our memory alive? Dear reader, I hope that will be you.
First off, let me explain some things. A lot of people seem to think I do things weirdly. What I mean is a lot of people seem to think I'm some kind of maniac murderer or some kind of bloodthirsty I don't know what. And that isn't quite right. I'll be honest enough to say that yeah, I do enjoy fighting. The thrill of battle, the daring and the risks fills one with an energy that can seldom be found anywhere else, no matter how many tankards you down or skirts you chase, but it's not as if I go looking to kill people. I simply just honour our family laws. There are several but this is a simple one.
To be prepared to kill one must also be prepared to die.
Simple enough, right? It's about conviction, you see. If you do not have the heart to die for what you believe in, then you cannot fight with your full strength. Turn that around, and if you're going so far as murder, you cannot really blame anyone for reacting in kind.
It's about respect really. Respect for your opponents and respect for the spirit of battle itself. To attempt to show mercy in the face of it, to attempt to take some high ground in the matter is the height of arrogance, as if to say that none of the fighting matters. That is disrespect, for your opponent, for yourself and for your ancestors. No, mercy is fine for those who haven't fully accepted the wages of war, but to those who are prepared to kill, especially without preparing to die, mercy is wasted on them.
Not many people understand this and it's difficult for me to explain to them why that is, my head doesn't work that fast and I don't have enough time to recount the tales of the Frozen Dagger, the Bulwark, the Wronged, the Waveborn or all the other Frozendaggers to tell them why. But writing lets me think long enough to get this down.
I'm saying all this because I've just come back from war. There is a country called Kul Goran that was besieged by giants, whilst goblins tried to seize territory and elves attempted to stop the bloodshed. That's a really shortened version but one day, once I've collected enough accounts from others, I might just write a full chronicle about it. But small steps first, right? A party of six of us, all familiar to each other were sent to Nrav'garat to help with the war effort, specifically to help rescue some families. Taz, a dragonborn friend of mine specifically came out to fight, whereas Sheryl, a halfling friend, wanted to resolve the conflict with as little bloodshed as possible and peace on all sides. They are my friends but they are naive. There are no winners in war, only losers. Your only hope is to fight for what you believe in earnestly and to the end.
We tried to reach the family without alerting the goblin and giant troops. We failed. As the goblins charged, I tried to get them to scatter, Kelemvor knows I did. But they shot me. So I abided by the family laws.
I did this for my friends, and I did this for Kul Goran, but when Sheryl and I reached the children in the house, to her they showed warmth, and to me only fear. I silently remarked to myself then about what kind of a chieftain I was when I couldn't even inspire any confidence into the people I was trying to protect. It does make sense, after all, until very recently I had very little to protect, but it still hurts anyway. On that field of battle I saw so many examples of leadership, from Sheryl, from Matthew, from Arkadius, even from that blasted cur Menace (One day I'll tell you about that) and I realised that that's what I wanted to be. One of these days. But I'm not quite there yet.
Even as we faced the fire giant, even as I sundered its mind so that it ran from me, even as I blasted him halfway to oblivion whilst almost being there myself, I realised that while I had almost matched the Frozen Dagger in sheer power, I wasn't nearly as close to him as a commander. I could not match him in times of peace. As I am now, I cannot honour their memory.
The ground was rent into great fissures after the war had ended, but yet again that is a story for another time. I must consult the legends once again to see what path I should take to emulate my forefathers, and dear reader, I hope you read on and find that I have succeeded in my task.
Forever are we glorious,
Wil Frozendagger
