Pauvera's Small Black Notebook

[Ill_Modont]

Typical. I put my thoughts down in elegant and beautiful prose and it suddenly all falls apart a few days later.

When I saw the Condottiero march up to him yelling and screaming as if he was personally responsible for the death of a hundred family members, I wondered what it was he had done. The answer, a few hours later would reveal, it turns out: the exact same thing he did last time. Just how many dead women was he going to display upon the floor of the Chamber of Rule?

Yet again I am given another reason to be very assured in my decision to keep him at and beyond arm's length.

I suppose I should not have been surprised he repeated his actions. He was not exactly reprimanded in any meaningful way for the first time. If I was in his position, I would think I could get away with it again and again. But, it turns out, there are those in the Balladeer's College who do indeed have spines stiff enough to hold up their principles.

The fallout has been calamitous. And I am not merely speaking of the Wyrm taking the opportunity to invade the Palatial Pyramid. Three dead. One seemingly gone to ground with no traces left to follow. I wonder if he left of a broken heart, his relationship with her certainly seemed to have something underlying its surface. But that might just be my gossipy mind at work.

The web has, very suddenly, become very still and silent. I can feel my mind growing a little mad at the sudden loss of interesting stimulation.

At least I have her and her demands to amuse me.

[Ill_Modont]

"Those of the Warrior want to be warriors."

I tell myself not to presume too much. Not to forget that beneath the surface of waves is an entire underwater world. That there is likely more to the simpleton, the idiot, the zealot.

And, yet, I am still caught off guard now and then. Yet again I am reminded that I, too frequently, judge too much of a book by its cover.

Despite her rough edges and her tendency to focus like an arrow upon a single thing in the distance, there is an elaborate and mysterious elegance to her. She has lived a tale of high drama and deep perseverance. Behind her empty thousand-yard stare are the experiences that would have broken most men. She is a gem of numerous facets buried beneath dirt and gravel and sand and ash.

I knew I liked her for a reason.

~ ~ ~

Narwen's brother is quite the sight. I hope he visits the Well more often.

[Ill_Modont]

I need to stop gambling against mages.

[Ill_Modont]

You can learn a lot about a man by how he behaves in a parlay. Not that there is anything wrong with striking from surprise. But knowing that one's attitude and personality allows for such is very useful information.

I do not mind working with--for--him. Why not take advantage of a situation where I can double dip? Coin is coin. So long as I am useful, I am valuable. But I certainly shall not trust him enough to carelessly turn my back on him.

[Ill_Modont]

Turn about is fair play. But, of course, a table that turns once can turn again. And again. And again.

And a thing that turns, naturally, can turn quickly. Or slowly. I consider myself a patient woman and, frankly, the apparent fallout I have been getting to witness has been amusing enough as it is.

Sometimes, the greatest fun is watching things unfold as you refuse to apply the brakes.

~ ~ ~

Digging through ash and sand. Stabbing harpies in the back. Dodging undead. Speaking half-random words at a giant stone head with eyes that eerily seem to be following you.

What a romantic outing.

~ ~ ~

So I wrote that I need to stop gambling with mages. But what can I do about the most interesting and eccentric of people being attracted to the most queer of arts?

I have not done anything concrete yet. But poking at her eccentricities was incredibly amusing and should the opportunity present itself I doubt I would be able to resist.

Besides, being around someone so loose with their coin purse is a great way to make money.

[Ill_Modont]

"tHaT'S aGaiNsT thE lAw."

[Ill_Modont]

Seeing the ones standing tallest fall is always the most amusing. Even when they do not realize it or refuse to acknowledge such. Hearing one speak so surely of things they do not comprehend always makes me laugh a little inside.

He said the words with his voice tinged with terror and malice and hatred. Clearly he thinks it something to be avoided, shunned, looked down upon: "You are better than such base deceptions".

What is deception but a shield absorbing a blow so that you are not injured? Or deflecting aside an attack with your own blade? Or simply jumping out of the way of an arrow? After all, if you are true and righteous, why not let the axe strike your limb? Why not let the arrow land upon your skin? Why not let the fireball burn you?

Deception is being elsewhere than where your foe strikes. Deception is striking where your foe does not know where you will strike. Deception is, like he did, not answering a question directly, only offering coy responses, or not even offering an answer at all. Deception is a degree, a choice, an action shifted from the present.

Deception is merely existing in proximity to another's ignorance. And ignorance is a thing in ample supply where thinking creatures exist.

No one is better than such base deceptions for we all employ them one way or another. We all exist in a world where certain truths exist that we would rather they not. And we all exist in a world where we work actively to change the present.

The one he said those words to is a wise girl. And surrounded by wiser friends and compatriots. She will know that his words grind up against reality.

But him? He acknowledged that others thought him deluded. Perhaps that means he can come to the same realization.

[Ill_Modont]

They can twist the reality of the world with a swirl of their fingers or the mutter of a few words. They can wield force fields, fireballs, and death itself.

Yet mages can be so ridiculously inane and neurotic. Spending so much time talking nothing of substance or speaking mad drivel.

[Ill_Modont]

How I laughed and I laughed and I laughed and I laughed and I laughed.

Yet--

Coin is coin.