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Full Version: Tales of the Rogue Isles: Patience
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Behold, the master who finds himself a slave.

I have always believed that the driving force of human development, evolution, and change has been the will. The overman who decides upon his own course, and through his intent brings his desires to reality. Polities, borders, races, cultures, and wealth. These were trifling things that small men waged war over. They ravaged Europe before my eyes over the death of a single backward aristocrat and some ink stains on parchment. While I can appreciate the value of one’s word, one should not be so bound by anything that one cannot free themselves of it, should the necessity arise.

As modern man marched on, science replaced mysticism. Philosophy replaced religion. Politics replaced doctrine. And this was well and good, but again the thinking of small men. After drinking the draught once limited to the “gods”, I was limited by such thinking no longer. My previous beliefs, my previous plans had simply not gone far enough. Mankind was holding itself back. It kept itself in chains for fear of what it was capable of. The splitting of the atom was but the first gleams of our species’ progression, and it was in the shadows of the superpowers that I would prove my view to the world. I would determine the world’s course, that they would finally be freed from such chains.

First was to end the weakness holding my compatriots back. I became a leader of men, a ideologue and commander. I swayed the most useful and destroyed those that would not accept my dominion, as was natural. Survival of the fittest reigned supreme until I rose to the heights of a bloodstained web, supreme amongst the predators that had once vied amongst its strands. As Hitler sought to sate his ego and that of his country, I consolidated my power and waited for the opportunity to come. In time, I chose my new lair, deposed its owner, and emerged into the light, and sent forth my own challenge to echo his.

To those who seek power, come to me. I offer no comfort, but a crucible. But those who survive will be reforged into the mightiest the world has ever seen.

Still, even as my power grew further, I became aware of its limits...of its leash. The Well of the Furies was power beyond power. Strength beyond time. And in drinking of it directly, I was bound to its whims. In my dreams, I saw the fractals. In my waking hours, I felt its presence. Its compulsion. It thought me a pet that it could order about at its slightest desire...but it did not know whom it thought to command.

Magic, mysticism, science, and more. Causality and time itself I bent to my will in my search. And yet, I have no answer. And yet, I still feel the chains. But this is but the greatest challenge of many in my time. As before, the answer remains the same.

The will of a man.

I will overcome the Well’s chains, and break its hold. So long as the will to resist remains within me. There is a way, and I will have it, even should the world burn to return my freedom to me. I am a master who has become a slave, but I will become a master again. For no one, man nor god, shall defy the will of Recluse and survive.

That which does not destroy me, makes me stronger.

That which fails to destroy me shall itself be destroyed.
"Oh, silver blade, forged in the depths of the beyond. Heed my summons and purge those who stand in my way. Lay