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Topics - Scythe

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IC - Naerlan / Problems with Deontology
« on: December 07, 2011, 11:16:41 am »
<Written upon a simple piece of parchment in crayon. In between the lines of texts various depictions of a girl with a black and blue dress, cold blue hair. Walking in the high moon night amidst a couple of gas-lit homes. The text written in Drow, and a vibrant blood red crayon>

What is good? See all too often ... all too often ... I hear members of the the supposedly enlightened, Supernal deities espouse terrific parables and bounds of compassion, duty and honourable sacrifice. As if theirs is somehow the word spoken on high. Is this 'good'? What is the key, core principles of goodness? Fealty, respect, compassion ... what a load of crock. Who wants any of these things? Indeed should it not be said that the notion of the perfect will lies in the reinforcement of core maxims. The truth of the animal that we all are?

Maxims ... that it is right I defend myself ... that I deserve nothing less than respect, through fear if necessary. That I should crave power to exert my will ...

Let's not lie to ourselves that this is the apriori maxims that any apex predator has ... and make no mistake friends. This is what so called 'good' churches espouse also. They will hide it amidst pathetic jargon, or sophistry. But in truth ... all people crave that moment of power. The power to exert one's will, the power to demand respect ... demand that you are seen as right. What more can there be?

Do not delude yourself into believing that the so called 'Evil Gods' merely want to enslave you, because you are buying into the whole manure that those Supernal beings you hold as Blessed figures of morality do not want the same thing! They want to have you fear them, they want you to perscribe to their singular belief, they want you to lose yourself and your freedoms to the singular cause of spreading 'Good' and 'nobility' throughout the land. 

They would have you believe that they uphold the superior in deed the moral maxims that govern our lives! But what nonsense is this? Common precepts of faith is that it betters you as a -person- ... it betters you as an -individual-. Of this there can be no doubt, no qualm, no falsity!

The Gods are real and no less, or more, than one deserves your fixated worship. You should live in the footsteps of these ultimate principles. BUT IN DOING SO you must then judge by such colours the tenants of your faith. Most of the Supernal beings of the supposedly 'noble, and good' Deities would have you lose yourself to the insanity of perscription. To be limioted in your freedoms, to limit yourself in your dealings and affairs. What maxim ... nay ... what -MORALITY AND RIGHT- by which would allow one to foolhardedly claim this to be a noble and true goal?

Take for instance the Temptress. Perfect in her Dark Splendour. What are her tenants? Are they truly so costly, so inhibitive, so cruel or maladjusted? The Dark Lady wants you to be ambitious. Take the Initiative. Fight for your right to be seen as superior and above your peers. She wants us to be -US- ... to give power to us.

To what greater pleasures do we owe? To what do many ascribe to her but the subjective and foolhardy term of 'evil' ... or 'malignant'. She wants us to be true to ourselves, and allow us to seek ever greater perfection and beauty. To be better and to advertise our individual power and authority.

How is it that such laudable aspirations be claimed as poor in valour, in nobility, or lacking in merit? Why is it that people attach grandness and nobility to Gods who would have us ENSLAVED and without the free will and tenacity to even attempt to -rightfully- stand out amongst our peers?!

To wit, these deontological values they hold onto so dearly that they wish us to be drones workking for some eclectic greater good of which is vague, and so wretchedly inobtainable as to have us languish in pity and distress?

I ask you now, Naerlan ... what is Evil? A God asking you to be all you can be, or a party line that tells you to forget your inherent value, and deny yourself all that you are due?

<the parchment scrawlings end with no signature, nor name or seal ... but a purple crayon depiction of a purple spider>

IC - Naerlan / Problems with deduction
« on: April 24, 2010, 04:53:43 pm »
<Scrawled in red crayon upon a long piece of parchment seem to be the musings of child. Written in a juvenile Drow script containing various cartoon figures represented throughout the text...>

I once met long ago with a couple of logicians ... compounding their thoughts on the powers of reasoning. Debating amongst themselves about the merits of aposteriori acknowledgement of transition, and analysis of change in the world. 'Is everybody in Tharel such boring individuals?' is a thought that flickered throughout my skull. Nevertheless I begifted them with my attention as it was a lazy evening in which I hadn't really anything to do but sip from a chalice and enjoy Naerlan cuisine.

It was as if they lost all wonderment within and without of the world that has been laid at their feet. Such nonsense and drivel spewed forth from their lips and it chagrined me to no end. Indeed I felt it so necessary to leave before my cerebral functions be invaded by idiocy ... particularly when one idiotic middle aged human mentions in discourse to his compatriot in the forces of stupidity ...

"Surely if the premises are all true, then the hypothetical must be also ... that the exact nature of knowledge stems from the ability to pervue all information given that witnesses a conceptual apperceptive ideality transcend into a brand new situation, state, or substance beyond it's previous incarnations"

I was mortified... what passes for an intellectual these days?

Such skepticism that the mind has, especially such towards the wonders of the world and the FACT of 'impermanence of body, permanence of Faith'-duality. Surely, there are cases within the world where the hypothetical is true if the premises are all true, but one is forgetting the most important caviat .... that of specificity.

Indeed if we take a two premise-hypothetical, one could use the example ... 1: all thieves carry knives 2: thieves are bad people, Hypothetical: all bad people carry knives.

We know this to be not true, we also know that the process can never work to create enough premises to cover the full range of specificities ... indeed it should be posited that the transitions of conciousness not be used so simply, nor that it should be seen as so important if it cannot be utilised in the case of deducing the value of people...

If our noumenal conciousness does not allow for specificity, it can not understand the borders and eccentricities of externalised phenomenal states, thereby making deduction inheritantly useless. As always ... Faith and internal exploration of the apriori can never be replaced by such drawl and dribble that such mindless sycophants of their own nature dare advertise.

<as the script comes to a close, it is replaced by a drawing of a large town with many roads under the light of a full moon, and a blue figure that walks amongst the looming structures within the picture.>

<OOC: Yes I'm fully aware the deductive logic and the Socratic method *have* become the primary motivators of scientific endeavour in the world, but Scythe is writing in a medieval-esque world :P>

IC - Naerlan / Problems with epistemology
« on: April 23, 2010, 03:37:05 pm »
<Scrawled in black crayon across an long piece of parchment and affixed to the wall outside Market Square with a small nail. All which seem to contain a musing, or memoir of years past. All written in a juvenile, yet grammatically correct, stylised Drow language.>

I crossed paths with a Priest of Cylad about a decade or so ago. He was giving a lecture or something to three or four students arrayed before him, sitting down and listening to his words. I decided to join them as he spoke about theories of knowledge. As I sat there, in the cool bathing of a full moon that illuminated this makeshift amphitheatre, on the side of the road into Naerlan I began to slightly stir in my seat.

It was so boring!!

My feet were tired, my breath was laboured ... and the lecture he was giving was like a sweet lullaby ... a true cure for when one needs tranquilizers to slumber!

Nevertheless he said something interesting! ... finallllllyyyyyy~~~~ ... This priest of Cylad said "People are merely the apex of their achievements ... armed with limited knowledge of how things should be done, and as such, guarantee their station!" .... or something like that ... my Common Tharel tongue has never been good, but atleast it was functional enough to understand.

I shuffled about on my seat upon the ground before lifting my hand. He seemed to peer at me for awhile before acknowledging my interrogative. Eventually he made a gesture towards me, welcoming my peaked interest.

"Neeee~ ... ano ... isn't that a fallacy though?" I spoke up in formal Drow tongue ... he seemed to understand ... by the look on his face as he glared with incredulity.

"Fallacy!? Are you saying that experience is pointless!? Do not waste my time with your idiocy!?" He screamed with a *less* formal usage of Drow language.

As I shuffled away from his most horrid stare a great sense of rage washed me anew. I Stood my ground ... proverbially of course ... before retorting in a tone much louder than the question that preceded beforehand.

"But you're forgetting intuition! Booksmarts and wisdom only get you so far! Surely the wolf has neither knowledge of anatomy or information concerning the recesses of the mind .... but still knows how to strike a killing blow and the smell of fear! Indeed I posit that despite lacking both, it still knows how to hunt and when the quarry is struck still with fear!"

With my anger unchecked by my philosophical riposte that I took my leave, having found sufficient rest and motivation to leave and pursue other activities...

<As the series of Drow figures upon the note scrawls to a close. Instead of a signature, or personal mark, there is a blue scrawling of what looks to be a moon and a very rough drawing of a whole bunch of houses and roads with a tiny blue figure walking upon it>

IC - General / First impressions....
« on: May 01, 2009, 10:12:11 pm »
...3 years ago...

"That's her! Get the monster!" said the nondescript Elven guard as he and 3 of his comrades close the distance between them and a black hooded fugitive bound over fallen trees and rocks. The elegant cascade of Elven feet danced a poetry of motion through the dry tinder of the forest floor, not allowing for the obstacles of nature to hinder their movement a single iota. Neither the black cloaked humanoid's grace, or speed of her pursuers, seemed to falter as they slowly made their passage past the shadowy gloom produced by the thick canopy above. Blotting even the gaze of the moon above them that would penetrate the insipid 'black' of their surrounds.


"Unnnhh!" The cloaked figure groans as she slides against a sturdy tree, and then finally... to her knees. The arrow had torn through the woollen shroud and grazed her arm. The wooden bolt's kiss left a nasty gash upon her as she ceases her movement to inspect the wound dilligently. Quickly assessing the damage with an analytical coldness, her eyes dart back to the entourage she had left in her wake. Silently encroaching upon her location like snakes spying their prey. A slight giggle erupts from her frame as she lays her gaze upon the soldiers that approach her callously.

"The filth of the realm command my attention? Why is it the knaves do not recognise their place?" The hooded figure speaks with malicious humour in Drow tongue as she drops her veiling garment.

Her mark of Jirah dangling from her lithe, pallid neck being aspied upon by the observant Elven cadre. As the once hooded figure runs her bloodied index finger across her lips before producing her blade defensively. The slow, resounding 'ring' emanates forthwith as she quickly releases the cold steel from it's sheath causing the air to distort and warble it's distinct and bloody intention.

"Both an abomination and a shadow-worshipper! If we knew one of our own would fall so far ... " The Corporal of the Elven patrol decries in that most disgusting of Tharel tongues. Elvish. It was enough to make the once-veiled creature almost shudder with contempt upon hearing them speak! Before long the quartet begin to encircle the young girl.... trapping her between the tree and the armoured physique of the captain of the patrol.

"Our own!? ... hardly...." The small girl smirks with innate humour at the four flanking Sylvans ... interrupting mid speech the guard's dialogue in her best common tongue ... her words at first biting, but finish with a simple slithering past her bloodied lips.

"...You will pay for your crimes!" .... exclaims the Elven commander as he leaps towards her with his spear squared at her throat....

<To Be Continued>

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