From: daemon102@aol.com (Daemon102)
Date: 21 Apr 1998 16:08:12 EDT
::the albino walks to the boards knowing full well where this is going::
If politics is the Black of DoS, then I am the least Political of everyone here.
I have duties to my people that keep me from the arena all but one night a week. On my one night in the arena, I duel for 2 hours before returning to call for 3. Having just made Warlord (as the next standings will show) I wonder how I will be perceived when my time to challenge comes. I will certainly be the least active warlord and it will take a while to gather Peer Wins or Loses as the case may be when you duel two duels a weekend. BUT, BUT, I
do have a challenge coming. This particular Baron/ness knows full well my intentions, and my beliefs on certain topics of debate. It is not the time or place to state my opinions on the o'lords right to interceed. I expect it may come when I decide to go for my ring. I will make my opinions known when I do get a Ring for this pale finger of mine. By that time many things may have changed and this argument may just be old hat. Heck, by the time I
accrue the necessary Peer Wins to challenge, the person I wish to face, (Whom I feel it necessary to note, has already accepted my challenge) may no longer hold the ring I desire, in which case I will stay my hand and my challenge for a ring
Daemon Satyriasis {S d102
Dueler of Swords {S devilman
Red Dragon Innkeeper {S rdi_dae
F.E.S.o.R.
[X]
There are no barriers in life, only challenges
Ramblings of a Daemon
-
DoS Archive
- Archivist
- Posts: 30701
- Joined: Mon Feb 16, 2004 8:27 am
-
DoS Archive
- Archivist
- Posts: 30701
- Joined: Mon Feb 16, 2004 8:27 am
From: daemon102@aol.com (Daemon102)
Date: 23 Apr 1998 16:59:53 EDT
::the albino returns to the boards with a page torn from one of his favorite books he pens a small note a top the page that all might know the source.
The following is from a book entitled "The Collected Works of Drizzt Do'Urden" I felt it fitting to share it, as it pertains to more than one thing, I placed it in with my ramblings. As time goes on, I may post more, but i will not dance around from reply to reply. I will simply post here.
Daemon Satyriasis {S d102
Dueler of Swords {S devilman
Red Dragon Innkeeper {S rdi_dae
F.E.S.o.R.
[X]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On Station:
Station: In all the world of the drow, there is no more important word. It is the calling of their -of our- religion, the incessant pullings of hungering heartstrings. Ambition over-rides good sense and compassion is thrown away in its face, all in the name of Lloth, the Spider Queen.
Ascension to power in drow society is a simple process of assassination. The Spider Queen is a diety of chaos, and she and her high priestesses, the true rulers of the drow world, do not look with ill favor upon ambitious individuals weilding poisoned daggers.
Of course, there are rules of behavior; every society must boast these. To openly commit murder or wage war invites the pretense of justice, and the penalties extracted in the name of drow justice are merciless. To stick a dagger in the back of a rival during the chaos of a larger battle or in the quiet shadows of an alley, however, is quite acceptable --even applauded. Investigation is not the forte of the drow justice. No one cares enough to
bother.
Station is the way of Lloth, the ambition she bestows to further the chaos, to keep her drow "children" along their appointed course of self-imprisonment. Children? Pawns, more likely, dancing dolls for the Spider Queen, puppets on the imperceptible but impervious strands of her web. All climb the Spider Queen's ladders; all hunt for her pleasure; and fall to the hunters of her pleasure.
Station is the paradox of the world of my people, the limitation of our people within the hunger for power. It is gained through treachery and invites treachery against theose who gain it. Those most powerful in Menzoberranzan spend their days watching over their shoulders, defending against the daggers that would find their backs.
Their deaths usually come from the front.
Date: 23 Apr 1998 16:59:53 EDT
::the albino returns to the boards with a page torn from one of his favorite books he pens a small note a top the page that all might know the source.
The following is from a book entitled "The Collected Works of Drizzt Do'Urden" I felt it fitting to share it, as it pertains to more than one thing, I placed it in with my ramblings. As time goes on, I may post more, but i will not dance around from reply to reply. I will simply post here.
Daemon Satyriasis {S d102
Dueler of Swords {S devilman
Red Dragon Innkeeper {S rdi_dae
F.E.S.o.R.
[X]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On Station:
Station: In all the world of the drow, there is no more important word. It is the calling of their -of our- religion, the incessant pullings of hungering heartstrings. Ambition over-rides good sense and compassion is thrown away in its face, all in the name of Lloth, the Spider Queen.
Ascension to power in drow society is a simple process of assassination. The Spider Queen is a diety of chaos, and she and her high priestesses, the true rulers of the drow world, do not look with ill favor upon ambitious individuals weilding poisoned daggers.
Of course, there are rules of behavior; every society must boast these. To openly commit murder or wage war invites the pretense of justice, and the penalties extracted in the name of drow justice are merciless. To stick a dagger in the back of a rival during the chaos of a larger battle or in the quiet shadows of an alley, however, is quite acceptable --even applauded. Investigation is not the forte of the drow justice. No one cares enough to
bother.
Station is the way of Lloth, the ambition she bestows to further the chaos, to keep her drow "children" along their appointed course of self-imprisonment. Children? Pawns, more likely, dancing dolls for the Spider Queen, puppets on the imperceptible but impervious strands of her web. All climb the Spider Queen's ladders; all hunt for her pleasure; and fall to the hunters of her pleasure.
Station is the paradox of the world of my people, the limitation of our people within the hunger for power. It is gained through treachery and invites treachery against theose who gain it. Those most powerful in Menzoberranzan spend their days watching over their shoulders, defending against the daggers that would find their backs.
Their deaths usually come from the front.