Adventuring Life, A Change for the Better
My earlier story was but one example, if a vivid one, of who I was when I first adventured. Its picture wasn't a complete one, though, and certainly wasn't telling of who I would become.
Even as a child I had a peculiar fascination with human culture. I found many things to appreciate in their music, to be sure, but I had a special love for their stories, for their legends and myths. Most of all, I enjoyed stories of chivalrous knights, noble heroes and heroines, and courtly love. As I aged these tales stayed with me, and I set many to song as I sang from tavern to tavern across the human kingdoms. When I started adventuring, those old-fashioned ideals were often in the back of my mind.
My later years as a "tutor" had set me firmly on the disgraceful path, but as I took up adventuring I often found myself wondering if I could be the "white knight" or the classical paladin. There were no such things among adventurers, mind you - there were goodly men and women who fought for many right reasons, but these were simply people expressing their natural selves, not people trying to end each day worthier than when they had awoke. Perhaps some had been redeemed from dark pasts, but no one was striving to live by lofty ideals, no one was trying to be the classic shining hero. Well, maybe some were, but they were doing it so meekly that they weren't recognized for it.
It should be noted that chivalry was indeed dead. To be "chivalrous" was to follow a particular code published by the largest human kingdom. To be "noble" was simply to have title. "Nobles" were obligated to follow the chivalric code, but so many of them followed the letter of the code rather than the spirit. What that kingdom seemed to forget was that by codifying how one should act they debased the principle of it. When there are specifics to follow people will follow them and only them, losing the grander meaning behind it all. And so, with very few exceptions, "nobles" were obstacles to goodly people's good works, rather than sources of inspiration or succor. Another terrible outcome was that since "nobles" were expected to follow a codified set of rules, common people often rejected those rules and that which the rules stood for, turning themselves away from the ideals of nobility and chivalry. Commoners who didn't act in low ways were viewed as putting on airs by their fellows, and people of station saw them as uppity wretches who needed to be reminded of their place. There were some individuals who were exceptions, to be fair, but they were very few and oft-ridiculed for their attitudes.
I should note that things always seemed exaggerated among adventurers. This was especially true among those adventurers who made it into the peerage. Such people often got there because of their power, and adventurers with power often had power because they had sought it out. Rarely do those searching for more power have virtuous goals in mind. Such people were of course very different from hereditary nobles who had trained for their station their whole lives. Hereditary nobles from places that didn't host adventurers were usually, though certainly not always, even further removed from such disgraceful ways.
And so it was unlikely for an adventurer in that time and in that place to value virtue for its own merits.
Yet, these ideas clung in my mind, and I grew increasingly displeased with myself. The more cavalier I grew about justifying the means by the ends the more I realized something was wrong. Now, to be clear, I was no common thief or thug. I had murdered, yes, but only to escape that earlier captivity. My great vice was actually my disregard for honor. I absolutely did fight for the greater good, but I rarely hesitated to do "unfortunate" things. If an act simply brought more good than evil, it was fine by me. In any case, I spoke with those I trusted about morality, ethics, and the circumstances of adventuring, and their wise words seemed all well and good, but nothing ever stirred anything within me. Nothing, that is, until I found a neatly-folded piece of paper lying on the grass.
I don't remember what I was doing, but for reason I was walking by myself during an adventurers' gather. I came upon a field that had not yet seen any combat, and something lying on the grass in the middle of the field caught my eye. I strode up to it and found it was a single sheet of paper, folded twice. The paper was new and crisp, but nobody had been out there. There were no tracks, no signs of travel, nothing, yet here was a single sheet of severely out-of-place paper. I unfolded it and inside I found the ideals I had been searching for! Elegantly stated, in terms so very clear they rang true to me more than anything ever had. The paper listed and discussed knightly virtues, virtues such as loyalty, faith, and nobility. It was so plain and so right, and it wasn't steeped in the kingdom's language of hypocrisy and ill faith. That piece of paper is what changed my life.
This was only the beginning, but I would go on to be a champion of purity itself, and when I did become a noble my sincerity and belief were so evident that just the way I carried myself caused a young adventurer to question her life's path and commit herself to a life of meaning and grace. Was I perfect? Absolutely not! By no means whatsoever. I was by all accounts an honorable man when I died, but I had made sacrifices of honor so that others would not, made the painful choices so that others would not. The more leadership I took on the harsher my pragmatism had to be. I also had normal vices aplenty still, though I considered them a far better set of vices than what I had held before. But despite my very real flaws I had grown so, so much and went so very far all because of that simple, single sheet of paper.
Indeed, if I hadn't come across that message, I would never have been able to complete the work that defined my life.
~A
Even as a child I had a peculiar fascination with human culture. I found many things to appreciate in their music, to be sure, but I had a special love for their stories, for their legends and myths. Most of all, I enjoyed stories of chivalrous knights, noble heroes and heroines, and courtly love. As I aged these tales stayed with me, and I set many to song as I sang from tavern to tavern across the human kingdoms. When I started adventuring, those old-fashioned ideals were often in the back of my mind.
My later years as a "tutor" had set me firmly on the disgraceful path, but as I took up adventuring I often found myself wondering if I could be the "white knight" or the classical paladin. There were no such things among adventurers, mind you - there were goodly men and women who fought for many right reasons, but these were simply people expressing their natural selves, not people trying to end each day worthier than when they had awoke. Perhaps some had been redeemed from dark pasts, but no one was striving to live by lofty ideals, no one was trying to be the classic shining hero. Well, maybe some were, but they were doing it so meekly that they weren't recognized for it.
It should be noted that chivalry was indeed dead. To be "chivalrous" was to follow a particular code published by the largest human kingdom. To be "noble" was simply to have title. "Nobles" were obligated to follow the chivalric code, but so many of them followed the letter of the code rather than the spirit. What that kingdom seemed to forget was that by codifying how one should act they debased the principle of it. When there are specifics to follow people will follow them and only them, losing the grander meaning behind it all. And so, with very few exceptions, "nobles" were obstacles to goodly people's good works, rather than sources of inspiration or succor. Another terrible outcome was that since "nobles" were expected to follow a codified set of rules, common people often rejected those rules and that which the rules stood for, turning themselves away from the ideals of nobility and chivalry. Commoners who didn't act in low ways were viewed as putting on airs by their fellows, and people of station saw them as uppity wretches who needed to be reminded of their place. There were some individuals who were exceptions, to be fair, but they were very few and oft-ridiculed for their attitudes.
I should note that things always seemed exaggerated among adventurers. This was especially true among those adventurers who made it into the peerage. Such people often got there because of their power, and adventurers with power often had power because they had sought it out. Rarely do those searching for more power have virtuous goals in mind. Such people were of course very different from hereditary nobles who had trained for their station their whole lives. Hereditary nobles from places that didn't host adventurers were usually, though certainly not always, even further removed from such disgraceful ways.
And so it was unlikely for an adventurer in that time and in that place to value virtue for its own merits.
Yet, these ideas clung in my mind, and I grew increasingly displeased with myself. The more cavalier I grew about justifying the means by the ends the more I realized something was wrong. Now, to be clear, I was no common thief or thug. I had murdered, yes, but only to escape that earlier captivity. My great vice was actually my disregard for honor. I absolutely did fight for the greater good, but I rarely hesitated to do "unfortunate" things. If an act simply brought more good than evil, it was fine by me. In any case, I spoke with those I trusted about morality, ethics, and the circumstances of adventuring, and their wise words seemed all well and good, but nothing ever stirred anything within me. Nothing, that is, until I found a neatly-folded piece of paper lying on the grass.
I don't remember what I was doing, but for reason I was walking by myself during an adventurers' gather. I came upon a field that had not yet seen any combat, and something lying on the grass in the middle of the field caught my eye. I strode up to it and found it was a single sheet of paper, folded twice. The paper was new and crisp, but nobody had been out there. There were no tracks, no signs of travel, nothing, yet here was a single sheet of severely out-of-place paper. I unfolded it and inside I found the ideals I had been searching for! Elegantly stated, in terms so very clear they rang true to me more than anything ever had. The paper listed and discussed knightly virtues, virtues such as loyalty, faith, and nobility. It was so plain and so right, and it wasn't steeped in the kingdom's language of hypocrisy and ill faith. That piece of paper is what changed my life.
This was only the beginning, but I would go on to be a champion of purity itself, and when I did become a noble my sincerity and belief were so evident that just the way I carried myself caused a young adventurer to question her life's path and commit herself to a life of meaning and grace. Was I perfect? Absolutely not! By no means whatsoever. I was by all accounts an honorable man when I died, but I had made sacrifices of honor so that others would not, made the painful choices so that others would not. The more leadership I took on the harsher my pragmatism had to be. I also had normal vices aplenty still, though I considered them a far better set of vices than what I had held before. But despite my very real flaws I had grown so, so much and went so very far all because of that simple, single sheet of paper.
Indeed, if I hadn't come across that message, I would never have been able to complete the work that defined my life.
~A