Nwalme Fuvur

[duncaniax]

*Snorts loudly*

 

[Rygan]

.. what.

..BLarg, where's the next journal. I'm waiting.

 

[blargtheawesome]

... Hnf.

 

[blargtheawesome]

... Developments~!

 

[Faelin]

Oh, you

 

[bettemus99]

*Sits happily and hugs MP*

 

[pyrocide]

I do believe I'm due a journal entry, no?

 

[blargtheawesome]

On another note, I deem Marcus's journals easier to write because they're lessons. Nwalme's journals are thoughts that he has trouble thinking about without putting them onto ink on parchment, and also what he wants scholars and philosophers to read once he is long gone.

Am I A Good Man?​

​

I would like to think so, but I am also biased to myself by being myself. I tell myself I have a grand plan I will accomplish, but am I so naive to believe that I can achieve what I preach to be an impossibility to my children?

Peace, peace is a form of perfection. We live in a world of scarcity, and in a world of scarcity perfection is impossible. We cannot build the perfect towers, we cannot build an impenetrable fortress because we are imperfect beings ourselves and we have limits. Our greed and selfishness limits us, but so does our concepts of honor and discipline. There is no supposed 'happy medium' between honor and honorless, you either have it or do not and both concepts limit you. Ambition limits us, yet it also gives us the drive to climb and accomplish great things. Love limits us, for we want to keep our loved ones safe, yet it also motivates us to never stop climbing so that we can protect them further.

Climbing. Climbing. Climbing.

Marcus has said that if I am tired of climbing, it is a good alternative to simply hold on to the rungs of the ladder that I currently have an iron grasp upon. But what am I going to do, if not climb? Everything I do, I am amassing more power and therefore climbing higher or I am restricting myself further and may be losing my touch on what was formerly a source of pride for myself.

Metaphors. We are all pawns in a game, everything is a pawn, even if you do not know it. I, Marcus, Grimar, Kyro, Danniella, my children. We are all pawns in a game I have dubbed, "The Grand Scheme." We learn, our clouded vision of the rest of the board slowly, slowly fades until we can see what we do and how it affects the grand scheme.

Why can I not go back to my former days, of a depressed child who did not know his way in the world; and even so why would I want to? What do I want to do?

I deem that to be a dramatic way to end this entry.

Nwalme Fuvur, the Sane(?)​

 

[pyrocide]

On another note, I deem Marcus's journals easier to write

How amusingly wrong you are, especially given you know more about Marcus than pretty much anyone else, given maybe one or two exceptions.

 

[Faelin]

How amusingly wrong you are-

It's funny; most everyone seems to be amusingly wrong the vast majority of the time.
You'd think by now we'd have grown tired of watching people muddle things up, get confused and fall for the obvious...
But it's so fun that way.

 

[blargtheawesome]

.. Mreh, the vast majority of my assumptions are completely wrong most of the time~

 

[Faelin]

.. Mreh, the vast majority of my assumptions are completely wrong most of the time~

I am far too aware of this.

 

[blargtheawesome]

On this note, I do believe I am caught up, now.​

​

​

Am I A New Man?​

I suppose, strictly speaking, I am still an Elf but the question remains mostly the same despite that. I've read of men who have been through traumatic or, I suppose, life-changing experiences in their life who have chosen to take a new name. I was Nwalme Fuvur, a simple and misguided child who was content to do whatever he wished and did not think too much about anything in particular. In a previous entry I've already touched on that, so I will not dwell upon it too long in this one.

My ears are now round instead of sharply pointed, rarely do I wear a sword on my person, I do not deem it necessary to directly involve myself in conflict in most situations. I have forgiven and I have forgot and no longer feel a boiling, deep hatred towards anyone anymore.

Am I now 'Smoke,' a devout priest of Sallana, whose sense of morality is lost and his sense of honor cloudy? I lie without hesitation, I naturally know who I can control and how, I have been raised and taught to be a shadow. The only thing expected of me is betrayal, fear of myself being outright obvious, using everyone else as a carpenter does tools to simply raise myself higher and higher in the world; and continues doing so simply because that is all he knows how to do. Who is unsure if he even feels at this point, or if his mind is instinctively replicating these emotions so to more fluidly and naturally take advantage of everything and everyone? Are my oaths to the Engem clan simply a short barrier I must hurdle over during my run to the finish line; death, kingship, lordship over Cromarcky? What is it that I want?

For the moment, I am content to keep to that a simple, 'Love.'

Nwalme Fuvur, for the Profit of Cromarcky.​

 

[The Living Ghost]

and his sense of honor cloudy?

fear of myself being outright obvious​

Love you too buddy

 

[Faelin]

This is both tragic and painstakingly hilarious.
As per usual, for all the wrong reasons~!

 

[bettemus99]

*Dances around* I MADE A TORMENTING SMOKE HAPPY

 

[blargtheawesome]

... Wee~

 

[blargtheawesome]

... Credit where credit's due, I read Janos's entry about the subject of love and thought, "LolNwalme."​

​

Love, A Disambiguation​

It is often said, that those who most piously spread the teachings of Sallana speak of everything in terms of love. This is not untrue, at least in my case. To varying degrees, I love everyone in this world, including those who if others have had my past experiences with them would utterly hate them. I see us all as brothers and sisters, all born from the Holy Mother, Sallana. One may not love their siblings, but at the least they should see them as equals; each a child, each having received comfort from the same mother, each having been raised in part by their father.

Of course, as with all matters, there are exceptions to these rules if one were to look at the situation closely enough. Some fathers are legitimately unfit to raise children, some children's mothers have been taken from this world before their time; I have experienced both. But, regardless, I have a father- I may not be his in the sense of he had relations with my mother, but in the sense that he molded me to his craft and mindset. I have a mother, in that I have a woman I run to in times of strife and panic for comfort; Sallana.

I intend to write down these thoughts into a different journal, if I have the time, but I thought I may as well put some of the thoughts down into this one.

Nwalme Fuvur, the Self-Proclaimed "Priest of Love"​

 

[pyrocide]

looks like I'll go 3 for 3. Gimme a minute to write it up.

 

[Megadonkey30]

One of these days I think I will catch up on journal entries... Maybe