Greetings friends and foes, I am sure you are glad to hear from me, or
perhaps you are not. I have become a rare sight in the realms these
days, but believe me it is for very important reasons that I have had to
leave and concentrate on my meditation. You see my humanoid form is so
appealing to woman that the mere, hint of my arrival is enough to cause
a stampede of the lustful females my way. Such is the way of Sayber
Saer'ac, such is the way of this mortal soul. Sad as it may be, please
feel no pity, I have grown used to it.

I took a bite into my red-hot, lobelia seed shwarma and prayed that my
bum would not hurt too much the next morning. I was on my way to Ashtan
on the highway and I stopped at the North of Thera for a short rest. The
wind was gentle and the sun slowly baked my back, Gods forbid I get
scale cancer. The air smelt delightfully different. Something was
decaying, rotting and putrid. A new guild was in the realm, a
necromantic guild.

As a Daru zealot it concerns me. For I am one who stands for light and
perfection. All my life I have been brought up understanding that evil
is the enemy and darkness is its security blanket. Now we all have our
conscience, a little imp on our left shoulder saying "Sayber drink some
more ale, it will not hurt!" and a little atavian on the right saying,
"Sayber smoke the cactus weed, it destroys less brain matter!" So I ask
you, if we all have our understanding of good and evil, we will all know
that being good is the way to go and we can all fight to end evil?

Sadly this is not so. A few more people entered North of Thera and
gathered around a few piked heads, I wept silently. The realm is not
that simple. The realm we live in is almost permanently in darkness and
ruled by evil. The moon was rather large that night and particularly
ominous. It was a bit off color too, and it had huge ugly creators, like
big red gaping sores. Then I realized it was actually Brin flashing her
bum at Malhavoc, and that in fact the sky was overcast.

Since a wee child growing up in Shallam I was led to believe that the
world is constantly at war. Everyone is fighting against something or
someone, for a particular reason or belief. Be it religon, ideal or over
a girlfriend. My father would beat my bottom for doing naughty things.
Like for example the time I stole a few stink sigils from the magi guild
and put them in the temple of Lanos, (The reason why it is still empty
to this day). "Sayber my boy, you have done wrong, for that you must be
punished."

So now being a Shallamite, a Rahnite, a Daru zealot as well as the
perfection of sexiness. I must fight against evil, darkness, immortal
bloodsuckers and people that kick around paradise birds. Now, these
Numerologist occultist denizens that can count to ten are out to get me?
No, I am sorry I will not stand against this new evil, No sir/ma'am. I
have already lost several levels fighting the Renegade Legion,
tree-house gang.

I mean I am a Rahnite, and I have chosen a route of perfection in my
art. Do you know how hard it is to perfect an art piece. I have tried to
paint Rahn himself, took me five weeks to get used to seeing him without
being blinded. It then took four more weeks to find paint that matched
the same color as his intangible, fluorescent, iridescent, neon-orange
flames. Only then did I realize that concept of perfection is impossible
to achieve. It is a path of life that is infinite. To constantly chip
away at a sculpture to make it realistic, perfect. It will eventually
look impressive, but it will never be real. It will still be a
sculpture. So trying to paint Rahn in the hope of pleasing him is more
frustrating than trying to beat off the hordes of females that cling to
my scales. Now I am forced to deal with this new pressure?

Lord Varian has asked me to paint up a few images of Aetolia. Being the
Midnight Age I decided to paint a few of the darker monstrous images. I
took out my quill and sketched Brin's behind. I knew Khepri would smile
on my mischievous behavior and perhaps Brin would have a sense of humor
too? So I drew away. I was however still in a dilemma, the fight of good
and evil.

How can I fight evil, when in the very "Beacon of Light", that I live in
has more evil in it's walls than in the heart of Bloodloch. I am so
scared to fart in my own study in case one hundred missionaries invade
my castle and guillotine me on my doorstep. Why? Because they mistook my
stench fumes for a nighted area or perhaps they mistook the smell for a
necromancer's chaos ent? The hypocrisy and elitist law in Shallam has
now put my nerves on the brink. I remember attacking Spirokai in the
sewers of Shallam with Strung only to be killed later by Alastra and
Spirokai. The reason? They said I attacked a Renegade Legion soldier in
a place that was not part of Shallam. This puts me at ease knowing that
the manure we release into the sewers beneath our city does not belong
to us, but rather the Renegade Legion. What does not put me at ease is
when the Sultan of Shallam calls me "dear", when my own child tries to
join the Luminaries, she gets refused class by them.

So now do I pick up two swords and name my swinging arcs of death in the
name Honor vs. dishonor?
We have Murad a paladin on the left who kills a few hundred tiny
innocent magi, as well as anyone who basically says a word that does not
please his psychopathic, deranged and serial killing ears. On the right
we have Zephy an infernal that holds a strict code, a mature guild as
well as a helpful soul to those under her realm in Bloodloch. She kills
when she has to kill, but dies enough times to make me think if she
never died she would be a dragon by now. You tell me which has more
honor. We all know Zephy has an affinity to females more so than men,
but I know deep down inside that infernal full plate and cold Xoran
shell she lusts for me, now that is honorable. I am not slating Murad,
although I do think these words will put me on death sight for the next
few years. Murad has a sense of humor, which is honorable. However
fighting for honor would be too confusing for me.

So now do I grab a druidic staff and protect the forests. Death and
decay vs. growth and renewal? My beloved Saige is a druid and I would
fight myself back to loom island for her if the need arose. Let me get
this straight. Necromancers burn forest for essence, even though it
costs essence. If the druid and sentinel councils enemy an occultist and
hunt him, the necromancer would soul cage and waste the essence anyway.
So fighting for the forest would be heartbreaking to see my seedling
goldenseal grow nice and strong only to have a stupid Occultist come and
tramp on them for no reason.

Should I fight for Balance vs. imbalance? As a child I was not so lucky
as many of you youngsters are. I was brought up in the country and had
to farm goats to make my gold. I had twenty-two goats and I would take
them out every day for seven moves of the sun and then put them back in
the pen. I had many ways of dealing with the little stubborn critters. I
used to whip the living daylights out of them to get them moving back
into the safety of the pen. This resulted in many of the goats turning
on me, they would maul my kneecaps and jab me painfully in the groin
with their tiny annoying horns. The goats did not love me and I did not
love them. Eventually I learnt to befriend the goats with soft gentle
bleats. A scratch on the bum here and there, a little sugar treat and
soon you would have the little buggers eating out of your hand. Thus I
could control them easily. Many people laughed at me while I was making
my stupid bleating noises and scratching a goat's arse. They tried to
undermine me and brag that their goats were controlled by their huge
sticks, and with a thrust or jab, their goats would obey every command.
I did not heed them for they were foolsand now that I think about itthey
were controlling goats with their "sticks"Oh my gods that is disgusting!

This reminds me of the sentaari. A guild that lives in Shallam's walls,
yet in dire need they will not offer aid to the city at all. Why?
Because it disrupts the balance. Now I have studied the balance for 40
years and I only understood how it worked the day I left the guild.
Balance is, taking an argument, drowning it ambiguity, soaking it in
apathy, marinating it in indecision and then sprinkling it with
futility. That is the recipe to becoming a good sentaari. If that is too
hard to do, try doing nothing. The best monks in the realm do nothing
but bash for days because it is easy or they talk crap for hours. The
guild mistress told me the other that being stubborn is not necessarily
a bad thing, but the goats I have just described are stubborn and they
have only caused me severe crotch ache.

Beyond mental capacity I left North of Thera for a drink at the Crystal
Leaf Inn, to drown in my sorrows. No route to go, no goal to achieve and
no life to live. I glanced at the sketch of Brin's rear and smiled,
knowing that at least there are a few things in life that are
worthwhile. Humorous things, and the intelligence to set feuds aside for
life's simple pleasures. That is worth fighting for is it not. Life,
what could be better than Life? Un-life?

Should I bathe in garlic, grab a symbol of Rahn, a silver stake and
fight the war of Mortal vs. immortal?
But hang on. If consanguine are so powerful and mortality is their food,
why are we all not dead? Because the consanguine fight more among their
own houses than they do with us. I will give respect to those that run
the top houses, the Nebre'sier can be annoying at times but their
influence on Aetolia has become a signature. The Voltaire have placed a
crude smile on Emperor Aborash's rotting face. However if the
consanguine did not harvest us "their food" properly, they would have no
blood. So fighting immortality would be more futile than trying to keep
Aden in one guild, in one divine order and keep to one side when land
marking. It is impossible.

I downed the rest of my wine. I was completely and utterly distraught.
Then it came to me. Just as I was about to leave the realm and paint
more portraits, I got a message. From someone I considered a friend. I
was told that if I were wise I would lay off Brin. As if I was really
harassing her or something. Please I have better things to do with my
time. So in a flash I realized what it is I am up against. I am not out
there to fight evil, necromancy, imbalance, immortals or unsexiness. I
am up against people with no sense of humor. But for the safety of my
life I will not paint Brin's bum, which is a sad loss for you folk, I
know you would dearly like to view it.

My father once built us a straw hut on the coast of Delos where we would
go to rest when we were tiered of the city politics. My father was not
too bright, the Delosian coast is windier than my grandfather's colon
passages. The hut did not last more than a few hours. He then built it
from wood. The Durianites waged war on him for killing a specific breed
of palm. Like I said my father had less movement in his brain than the
activity in the temple of Lanos. Eventually the idiot built it in stone.
The house is still there today.

So if my humor is too rough. Or if it is too thin a line between jest
and insult, I will work on it. I have always thought this realm was a
place where we could drop our egos and drift away from taking things to
heart. This world is intriguing, exciting and it stretches every single
emotion we have. So I do not care if you are vivisecting a poor grook,
feeding on a struggling raja, perhaps impaling a troll or even if you
are flame bombing a room full of land markers. Remember that life is a
game and to take things personally is immature and ridiculous. Even if I
die twenty thousand times for twenty thousand Epochs I will fight
against those who do not laugh or smile. For those that it is impossible
spare me at least with a sparkle.

On a lighter note, and I like a lighter note, being the Daru and all(oh
please somebody stop me)

I have become an old lizard, and my days have grown tired. I no longer
wish to bash for hours, rat for hours, spar for hours, no. I have found
more quality in my castle writing and painting. The point that I am
getting too is I have recently taken up portraits and writing. If you
ever wish me to do a portrait for you the charge is 40 credits, all I
require is a very specific detailed description of yourself. If it is a
lady that wants a portrait I request that she stands naked. So I can get
the full essence of her form. If it is male, well please just send me a
description in a message scroll.

I have also written three books about my life, I really would like to
urge you to read them. I have done one on fighting, monkhood and one
about me. The latter is a good read because it is about me and you all
want to know about me don't you? Please would you take some time out of
your day to catch up on some reading, I know it will benefit you.

This scroll comes as friendly advise, and I urge you to read and try
understand where I am coming from. Well most of you probably know I came
from my mothers fertilized eggs but you know what I mean.
Sometimes I think I am the most hilarious being on this flat piece of
rock we call Sapience. Gods bless me and those that smile.

May a huge flame warm your hearts.

Penned by my hand on the 19th of Midsummer, in the year 107 MA.