People of Sapience-
It is a rare occasion that I burden you with the inner workings of my
imperfect mind. Yet the occurences in my recent past dictate that I must
speak to the events of the day. As daemons rise in the west and Sultans
tumble in the East, I would weave for you a tale, of days gone by and
things to come. Congratulations, Lady Eris, my words speak to your
omnipresence in this realm.
My tale is one of no great reknown: Mine is the tale of a fisherman, a
recluse, a relic from a former time. Long ago I was more than what I am.
Once I stood in polished field plate, immaculate in appearance and
decorum, a proud Officer of the Infernal Knights. Now my pride has left
me, and I cast thread into a lake in the Southern Vashnars, and silently
keep my thoughts and actions from the realm. Though simple, my time as a
fisherman has allowed for great contemplation, and I have enjoyed the
solitude of an honest trade. For 20 years, I have slumbered, a Sleeping
Dragon. I slumber no longer.
Two things, a long time in coming have driven me from the deep recesses
of pleasant dormancy. The first is the degradation of Honour within
society. I claim to be few things. There are greater warriors, and there
are greater fishermen. Men and women are posessed of greater skill,
greater intellect and greater determination than I. Yet from the day of
my birth til the day of my imminent demise, I have claimed two things:
Honour and Evil. I do not presuppose to be a foremost expert on either.
In recent years, Honour has become more and more difficult to claim.
When I was 18, men asked which Infernals posessed the greatest honour.
Now men ask are there any people posessed of honour at all? I spoke at
length with the Lady of Mischief on the subject. She was confused as to
the very ideology of honour, and noted that there were few citable
examples. I could not disagree. Once honour was a great shield for the
knight guilds of the Land. Now pedestrians are slain in the streets,
massacred countless times over errant words or pixie corpses. Teams of
warriors who shame their coats of arms fan out across the land, thirsty
for blood and the experience of murder. I am no Maldaathi, no
Runewarden, no Paladin. I am a man who was once an Infernal Knight, and
it falls to me to bring these charges. Knights of other guilds will no
doubt swiftly point the sharp end of their blades at the conduct of
their adversaries, or at the tactics of roughians. In this they err.
Thieves are unconstrained by the laws of honour, for they make no claim
to them. Yet Knights, Champions of Honour, who once used such a
principle as a shield are responsible for more than mindless slaughter,
and I believe the whole of Sapience knows it. I can no longer stomach
references the haphazard tossing about of the term Honour. Thus I vow to
take up my blade in defense of a principle that is at the core of my
beliefs.
The second reason for my Awakening, is tied directly to the first. I
have had many productive and thought provoking debates on the nature of
Honour and how it pertains to Evil. For years I have stated that Honour
is the most useful of tools. It creates discipline both in ranks of men
and individuals. Honour is something that we strive for to make us
better. To act with chivalry is often difficult. Yet through honour one
might garner the respect of the land, as well as personal strength. It
has always been my contention that the discipline through a fierce
adherence to Honour was what made the Infernal Knights of the past
great, what made them the Elite troops of the cause of Evil. For 50
years, I embraced the doctorine of Evil. I have killed for evil, and I
have died for evil, countless times. Thanks to the training of Lord
Sartan, I have become stronger than I might ever have imagined. Yet in
my strength lies my failure. In my interview to be and Infernal, I told
my inquisitor that I valued Evil above all else. Evil, before honour. It
occurs to me now that that viewpoint no longer resides within my being.
I hold Honour above Evil, and in doing so, I have shown the greatest
weakness one might be posessed of. I have weathered many a storm. For
the cause of Evil I have sacrificed all that I had. Yet my efforts were
a failure on all levels. I fought to see the Infernals saved; they are
no more. My honour prevents me from joining the ranks of their
replacements. I laboured for the landmarks, that our essence might be
preserved. Our efforts were rewarded with divine retribution. All those
years I never questioned the actions of the Lord. Yet as I stood in the
Central Courtyard of the fortress of a guild that was not mine,
hammering away at a massive demon, my weakness came to light. As
countless young Naga and Maldaathi corpses lay riddled with tooth marks
at my feet, I realized I no longer saw the benefit of the slaughter of
so many innocents. The cruelty that I once championed cut down my
daughters, destroyed my guild and ravages innocents. I can no longer
wield this blade. Many knights of many guilds have asked that I lend my
hand to them, that I might purge weakness and dishonour from their
ranks. With the rising of the daemons in the West, I realize that I can
no longer follow the path of my Father, Xerimor. Nor can I follow the
path of the Lord.
For many years I have walked this path without question. I question now.
I appreciate the strength that the path of Evil has afforded me. Yet I
cannot join the Maldaathi, bringing with me my latent weakeness. People
have asked me why I do not cleanse the guild with teachings, and prose?
I had said I was just as likely to cleanse the guild with the strength
of my blades, and I realize this is true. Thus begins a new chapter in
my life. I am a Knight of Weakness now, and in my Weakness lies a desire
to protect the innocent, and to cleanse the realm of Dishonour. To do
this, I shall wield a new blade, the blade of my brother, Davien. From
this day forward, I draw the blade of Righteousness in one hand, and
Honour in the Other. To those who would murder innocence and tarnish
honour, be aware, my Duality in this matter shall be both fearsome and
resolute. I realize that I will be punished for my weakness by my former
patron, and I expect the wrath and fury of his anger. I am weak. Yet in
my weakness, you will find great strength, and in my determination, a
new cause forged in the fires of days gone by. I shall not cleanse with
words and prose.
"Ours will be a revolution of Blood and Steel."

Be well, people of Sapience. Go with honour, and let the revolution
begin.

Sir Zhuge Liang, the Awakened

Penned by my hand on the 10th of Lupar, in the year 318 AF.