I know your disappointment that all of your children have chosen violent paths. I know you do not approve of my reverence for the Passion Thystonius. I endure this, and in enduring grow stronger. But there are, perhaps, some few things in these last few months to ease your hearts.
Shantha and Rudhra have completed their convalescence and are returned to full health. This news must bring you joy, as it does me.
Also, I have begun to Quest for Thystonius. Yes, I don't expect that to sit particularly well with you, but know that in beginning this journey, I did no harm to anyone, Namegiver or beast. Not all struggles require blood, though I must admit that blood was spilled, even if not by my hand.
Three rangers of the Throal Army had failed to report in. As you well know, with Shantha and Rudhra both in the army, I feel some responsibility to not only them, but all soldiers. So, I answered the call to find them; to rescue them, or to recover their bodies and put their spirits to rest. Four other brave Adepts also answered: Steel-hearted Sobelle, an Elf who feels about the beasts of the world as I do about those who stand in our defense, Clever Garak, an Ork whose mastery of Archery is matched by his cunning use of its magics, Golden-crowned Caesar, a Human who depends on his regal demeanor as much as his Illusions, and Bright-moon Z'mokki, a T'skrang whose stealth does not hide his brilliance, just as the night does not hide the moon.
We ventured into the mountains, following the path of the rangers, and found the place where they had been captured with great ease; largely because we, ourselves, were similarly captured with great ease. It was a simple enough trap - a rough-woven net covered with some sort of natural soporific. This substance might be of interest to the alchemist who plies her trade back home. If she wishes to know more, I can tell her what I know.
Our captors were a self-declared Cult of Thystonius. As you have told me many times, to zealously cleave to a philosophy does not mean one is in a cult, and cult is not at all a pleasant word. Perhaps it was their leader, an Ork named All-Tusk (and presumably no goodness) who forced such a demeaning moniker upon them.
Claiming to represent Thystonius, this Ork challenged us, and our companions responded in kind, making a wager on a series of races: Our freedom or their prisoners'. This was unexpected courage, and I must say these other Adepts were made of good, strong stuff indeed.
And so we raced. We raced across broken stone ridges, and water-filled chasms. In the first instance, Sobelle's falcon won the day for us. In the second, Garak's sling stone. In the third, there was a bear, and you will be pleased to know that instead of fighting the bear, Sobelle charmed, calmed, and in fact healed it, so that we may win that leg of the race.
Of course, All-Tusk was weak inside, in the way that those who bluster most loudly inevitably are. He was more interested in claiming victory than pursuing it. I'm afraid I did raise my voice, then, to decry his base and faulty understanding of Thystonius. This did provoke him to battle, though for my part I simply showed him the inevitability of what we all face and thus made his fears manifest.
In his terrified state, he was easy to render unconscious. We rescued his prisoners, one of whom was a Questor of Thystonius, come to judge and correct what was happening here. With his guidance, I joined the great Contest.
As you despair for my future and my violent ways, know that I love you, as I always have, and that I promise to keep Shantha and Rudhra safe. Please do send more of the passion fruit pickle and the corn cakes - they are delicious and remind me of home.
Your son,
Valteri Tuoni.Statistics:Posted by bronzemountain — Sat Jul 03, 2021 2:03 pm
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