Who Do You Think You Are?

[CosmicWhaleShark 2488]

When I read tomes of history long ago, records of noble men and women who lead their nations to greatness or ruin, I never considered myself capable of what they could do. Oh, you may say, you are just being modest and humble for our sake. Though, you must understand, I truly never considered myself a leader. I was, I am, just a Wood Elf. 

 

 

 

I've lived more in the past twenty years than I have my entire life, it seems. There was a time when the most valuable thing in my possession were my own two hands, calloused and deft from work and experience. Even then, this was not always the case. My thumbs still have a slight bulge, from when I broke them, to wriggle from shackles that kept me a prisoner.

 

It seems so surreal now, looking back on how it all began. I was overjoyed to even have a forge to finally be a master of, I thought I had everything I already needed. To defend that forge, however, I became a guard. To preserve the guards, I was named their commander. And in an effort to protect my people, my friends, those I fought beside and for, I became their leader. I know how it all happened, yet sometimes in what few moments I spend alone, I find myself asking the question, "Why me?"

 

 

My hands, once used for the sole purpose of creating crafts and works, turned into hands covered in blood. Whether through the swing of my blade, the drawing of my bowstring, or the swoop of my quill. And I became cold. Cold as the bronze that I covered myself in, that I took on as my image. Bronze stands bold, what a silly phrase... It worked, however, it certainly worked... 

 

 

It came to the point where even my wife looked at me with disbelief in her eyes. The woman who gave me my first forge, who I am in love with, who I am indebted to. I had become too caught up in the workings of the world, I convinced myself after years of war that killing was actually a suitable option. Worst of all I was distrusting of those, innocent, thrown in with the lot that I considered enemies, and briefly, only briefly, listened to those beckoning me to kill without quarter. All the same, my crimes were there for all to witness. Though I think I prefer it that way. Occasionally I am reminded of my foolishness by others, and despite how bitter it is to hear, I feel there is necessity in it as well. I am learning because of it.

 

Despite these lessons in my own missteps, though, I find myself prone to making further mistakes. How does one choose what is right or wrong? I feel trapped at times, stretched out like a sloppily hammered ingot. In my pursuit to display greatness in Elves, it seems I've become just like anyone else. But, then again, it's not as if I was remarkable, to begin with. I simply convinced myself that I was something else. I know what the issues are in retrospect. I am impulsive, but at times hesitant. Too quick to forget or remember my pride, to draw my blade or bow, even calling to mind or forgetting the fact that I am responsible... For a people. There's no excuse for it, yet I find myself continuing to do it, all the same.

 

 

 

Our people are not strong, looking at it objectively. In the past I have found our saving grace to be our friends. My greatest weapon has been how I've conducted myself, I believe, proving and convincing those from afar that I was a worthy ally, and in turn so were my people. Now I have had to decide where to cast my lot. For the sake of those I consider friends, I have had to dismiss the blood I spilled on a parchment. I have had to dismiss my oaths, and my word... As did everyone else who signed that parchment, but all the same, I have broken my promise. The doubt I feel makes me question whether it was the right choice or not. I find myself wondering if we are even strong enough to assist our friends in such ways that they assisted us. Only time will tell, it seems, and I dread finding out the answer.

 

 

 

When I read tomes of history now, records of noble men and women who lead their nations to greatness or ruin, I think back on when I first read of these people. Now I wonder, if the old me was reading records of my actions now, would he be shaking his head with a scoff or nodding with a small smirk of appreciation.

 

I am a craftsman, I am a soldier, a commander and a leader, yes, but I am just a Wood Elf. I wonder if that is enough.

 

((Thanks for reading folks, haven't done one of these in a while. Thought it might be good to write a little bit out for Phaedrus to get his character a bit more refined, and figured I may as well share it with a post for leisurely reading.))

[Porko 397]

((Nice))

[Heero 4092]

[i gotta give you credit. The pics are pretty adorable. Nice read as well.]

[oblivionsbane 714]

Good read, where'd you get the pictures?

[CosmicWhaleShark 2488]

I used novaskin for the actual skins, and then just edited in everything else.

[Glyc 234]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.