An old poet once said: “When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.” Where is my river?
At the Monastery of the Broken Blade, we get tattoos. Not out of vanity or a desire for attention, or some sadistic love of pain. The tattoos are supposed to remind us of many things, such as: “Check your privilege. Never think that you are more important than anyone else. Stay focused.” They remind us that our outward actions are expressions of what is inside. To be sure, the last few days have been traumatic, from almost losing ‘Astra to a dire ape and getting thrown against a tree myself, to three hard days on the eastern road (though I do have a new companion in my mage-bred horse whom I have affectionately named ‘Hafiz’). Maybe that’s why I forgot who I am, and filled with self-importance.
When Cash started casting at our interloper on the road I scoffed…but his spell exposed an ambush.
The last thing I said to Nameless was that I liked him better powered down than awake…next thing I know tigers pounce on both of them. Usually Nameless takes on 3 enemies by himself, and Cash slyly …well, I’m not sure what he does, but it works. And now they’re both in trouble.
Cash’s last action before the tiger attack was to cast an invigorating spell on me, and Nameless stormed bravely into the forest.
We may destroy vampires and necromancers, cyborg-animals and evil cultists. But the most profound and enduring battles are always those against the demons within.