Insights of the Strategist

[Falreign]

The threads of knowledge course the lands dangling from each person as if a puppet with the god's hands dropping and raising as they feel it fit. This is a collection of the movements of the threads attatched to Nimo Rintov.

First Thread of the First Passing.

This is all too soon. Too much to worry about. Brought all the way to Mistone without even a day to prepare. The guild probably thinks of me dead. How will I return to Pranzis a dead man? Everyone, everything rather, here is so completely simple, these townsfolk with so many needs. Not even a chance to get my stash from underneathe the baker's barn. Looks like I will have to take as many jobs as I can here. Take up a quick trade maybe even try to remember what those fools taught me about making poisons. These ugly backwoods humanoids are even worse that those Prazians. I can command as much interest in a field mouse as these villagers. The demons in Xantril could teach these people a few things about how to talk.

Second Thread of the First Passing.

I can't keep rehearsing my hatred of these goodie-too-shoes, I am beginning to sound like that snivling old Magician. However I could do myself some good to remember what that blasted murg'ol of a man taught me. Strength in numbers, I must find a way to speak with these country bumpkins and cut deals with them, no intentions of making any friends with these simpletons. The joy of finding so many simple prey here is fantastic though there is little to steal, I must practice my sword play. Though I cannot cut a goblin in half I can certainly do well enough to stab its kidney, my wit will do much more damage than any of these brutes and their muscles.

Third Thread of the First Passing.

Such a simple life here. Do any of these coots have secrets for me to expand upon? Surely they have weaknnesses I must use them for my advantage the way the Magician taught me. Hope that old man rots on the outter plane of happiness-and-springtime, only justice to the way he has damned me to this place. Aha so this is my chance, I do see. A talking orc will surely love to have its secret kept and I will surely love to have payment for my silent service. All is well that ends well, maybe there are others with good paying secrets around these parts. This is what I get for being close minded like that old Magician, I must be more thoughtful and prepared for the unexpected. I cant control my giddiness, cannot wait to see what finds it way to me next, maybe a goblin with wings or a fat fairy.

[Falreign]

First Thread of the Second Passing

The time spent here is wearing on me. It seems I am developing some sort of attatchment to these... interesting folk. They have more to offer than dribble and loose spit, it seems some have as much prowess in battle that I hope to obtain. A very interesting place for the Dragon to bring such talented adventurers to. Perhaps in time I can learn to be of use to the Dragon and maybe to people here

Second Thread of the Second Passing

Haha fantastic, my knowledge of the world is still unmatched versed many of these grass chewing adventurers. To top it all off I am quickly excelling in my understanding of battle and commerce. This rapier and this shortbow have proved quite useful to me as of late all leading up to my perfectly shady dealings which have earned me many a good pleasurable night at the inn. At this rate I will be a top-notch master of my weapons and brains. Who would have thought.

Third Thread of the Second Passing

Still my blood boils deep underneath. I cannot help but drive hatred towards all these fools who wallow about unaware of the danger that keeps itself in the shadows. How it irks me when I see a one hide from my shadow, if only I could invoke this wrath here as anywhere else. There is no way I would escape with murder on this land, paladins in every temple and goodie blabbermouths on every road. For now I must keep this undercontrol and focus on gaining power, perhaps another day not a temple dweller nor a road traveler will be able to hinder me.

[Falreign]

First Thread of the Third Passing

Seems there is some excitement in the lands, the planes are endanger and some sort of gifted children are to blame for rukus cast upon the this town I have been staying at. When I heard the voices of the dying women I first slipped out with myself unnoticed than decided it best to stay incase I could help in some way, how I feel a fool for that now, the child never noticed me and left quickly being chased. I can not see why I would have stayed now, though I feel I might wish for a good reason.

Second Thread of the Third Passing

The people were in a panic and it all happened before a single person would play the simple games of dice I offered. Shortly after though I had my chance for a game of wit when one of the many moody people in the audience demanded a name from me, of course I won, no match she was so baffled she didn't even bother after three sentences. Somewhat relieving to see such a dark winged creature with so much power that others nearly bowed to him as he healed them, makes me wonder how it must feel to be good at what you do.

Third Thred of the Third Passing

Cursed ogre treasure, I can feel the raging blood boiling up! It burns inside my skin, asking me to do this, the hatred is there and for good reason. The red knight with his upity attitude, how does he figure me a thug? A man offering his services to protect women is noble but if the man wants equal trade for gold he is a monster? How my blood wishes to show them a true monster, how I desire to let my skin leak this anger! The children seek to destroy this world and I say let them. If the Mechanus and the black winged demon both wish to save this cretulous place I say curse them. The people here know nothing of thugs nor enemy, they will find a scapegoat with skin unlike theres, eyes unlike theres and cast him into limestone caverns so that they may feel pride and joy to there self-righteous causes.

[Falreign]

First Thread of the Fourth Passing.

Mistone is growing on me, I can recognize buildings and roads without having to double back, I havent spent much time here and already I can remember names and places, perhaps it is the air of the land or the simple prey. I rarely need to flee from giants or duck from gaurds when I do my buisiness. Having people as friends dosent seem like such a hard life, perhaps I wont ever be the prominent popular nobleman but I can at least live my life with people, friends. Time thickens in me, I need this place.

Second Thread of the Fourth Passing.

I have seen my share of wonders and met my share of wonderful people here. Rylok, though big and lacking the quick-mind I have, has become a great friend, we fight along side and compliment our differences.. He has his boundless strength and me my boundless wit, we can take on any force put in our way. With my jolly brute at my side I have noticed my enemies even more, without the fear of death at my heels I can see them move, they are often the same in premises, my grand knowledge absorbs the way they fight like a gnomish bread making machine. Maybe if I focus I can put this to use, as well as my skills with my weapon. I can almost remember. Almost remember what it looked like watching him. What ever the Magician meant. Perhaps I should look further into my bloodline, or perhaps the past is best left uncovered. I have dealt well enough with my blood for now, maybe I wont need to chance myself at being captured by the Magician. Time thickens in me, this place needs me.

Third Thread of the Fourth Passing.

Teifer? Drow? What do these people know? Do I look elven? Am I some sort of freak to them? I cannot stand the way they think, I cannot see how they pass judgement so quickly, so many of them walk away after they finish, not prepared to toss a good insult. Maybe I am serious about the harsh words I say, maybe I really do with the worst for them. And so what if I do, their lives matter nothing to me except maybe less suffering. The way the look at me, the way they ignore me, the annoyance they cause me. The only time I feel truly relieved is when I leave them to watch a rotten ogre pass its final breathe, or bleed out a goblin. I could answer to a different calling than to fight this so called Bloodstone, the dragon was right to see in me my knack for killing but it dosent matter who it is that dies, I will avoid conflict and the vigilant paladins that course the land. Time thickens in me, I need blood and they need death.

[Falreign]

Only one thread Remains, the Fifth Passing.  
  It has been ages since I even thought on life, living it has been all the world and the wonders held here are countless abound. My blade has become good company as freinds have come and gone and though useful they are as trusty as the wind at my heels. Everything has it's use to me, the Layonara is my oyster and I will find the pearl. I have honed the technique of my rapier to a simple science, it may be possible to further the powers of my blade in a simple test of merit. I must head to Dregar and challenge a man of the blade himself and if he declines, I will simply watch him in step and train beside him. And if that old magician spoke words of wisdom, for if he spoke of my bloodline or my blood alone I will never know. What is important now is my interests and my interests pique in Dregar.

[Falreign]

The Sixth Passing
  Training has become most exhilirating, the battles themselves hold more value than the victory. However the victory still holds coin and that will help me considerably if I am to achieve greatness. Fame and fortune are my keys to the door of life! Perhaps I go too hard on some people, their company is not too terribly bad. What would my extraordinary prowess be without people to show off to? I will prove to them that even an odd outsider such as myself can hold even. My possible friends will reap fame and my soon to be dead enemies will reap my fortune. Behold a new dawning Nimo, we will take this life into our hands and craft it into an undying legend.

[Falreign]

The Seventh Passing
 
  Shoufal, the land of year long winters, a town where I did not expect to pick this book from a stranger's house. Who would have thought that this old diary would be so fascinating, the man was a gaurd captain here. He lived here his whole life and told many stories about how shocked he was when adventurers came through. The way we dress and the way we talked, it appears he once had many friends or at least he thought they were friends. Through countless raids against the giants and many gaurd stations wrecked he was the last survivor of his generation, the only one to die from old age. He wrote of this land as if it was the most wonderful place on Layonara. This mans passion was not only in his land but the art of battle as well. He wasn't the captain of the gaurd simply because of seniority, he was a strategic genius. Fight small forces in small quarters, never lose the front line and always judge the enemies ability from experience and scout knowledge not from prejudice or simple emotional interference. Not only tactical warfare but close combat as well, this man was also enthralled by the heat of battle. The footwork and maneuvaring involved and the points on an enemy that would cause them to fall. This book is a treasure to me now. Perhaps the second reading will prove more interesting than the first.

[Falreign]

Nimo's Threads of Knowledge flickered in time and his life passed him in the shantytowns of Hampstead. Memories blurred with the stupor of alcohol and the addictions of carelessness. His obsessions turn to petty smuggling and flirting with barmaids but in time even that fell to carelessness as he began to be swallowed by the sands of time.

But then they came to him, the dreams, "Rintov! You little brat!" the voice of his ancient tutor rang in his mind and he awoke each time, instantly sober, unable to do anything but read and exercise. Only his pursuits could distract him long enough to escape the constant riveting of his childhood. "That is your True Blood" he could feel the disdain and the jealousy he possessed for the skill of those fighters he observed in his last moments with his earliest caretaker. His pettiness in life gave him the desecration worthy of his low birth and this is what drove him out of his hovel.

Nimo sold his homely possessions one by one and worked his body back into shape, his mind pushed once again into his thirst for knowledge. A trip to the treasury and he was suited up once again, truly with the will to learn of his capabilities. To learn the names of those swordsmen, those two who dueled.

Here again, are the passages of Nimo Rintov.

[Falreign]

First Passing of the Second Life

Tireless. Must, keep up. I must be tireless. Breath. Step and block, parry and advance. Breath. This has no longer become my training. The forms I learned from the written words of the Shoufal Captain gracefully gleam together with the way the sailors of Hampstead dance with their blades. Slash, stab, breath. I must not tire. Without this I cannot sleep. Without this I cannot awaken. This is not training, this is my life. Where have I been for so long? This is my life. Block, parry, riposte! My hands take this rusty blade and instantly life is once again graces it. There must be more techniques. Flourish, stab and retreat. Breath. Yes that dwarf, Bjorn, he made quite a show of his skill. He spoke of another, a swords woman. Perhaps, cut advance, advance, stab. Perhaps she will know more. Perhaps. Breath. Sheath.

[Falreign]

Second Passing of the Second Life

My passions invigorate each day. Phyress Sylphide is a heroine in her art. When I first approached her, I thought that she would only have the words of another woman before she took to me. That was foolish to think. I must push away from that constant distraction, my only desire now is for the duel.



I have drawn so near this, my most wholesome effort. It has a name: the duel. An art which I will strive to acquire. Phyress has taken me in as her student. Her attacks are as graceful as the swan as it rises from the pond. I will take her lessons as creed and her words as the only truth. After seeing her I cannot remove her movements from my mind.



Such a beautiful art, it is exactly as I had originally seen it. In that arena from my childhood. That battle which rages in my memories and always encourages extra bottles from the bartender. Such a wonder, to have it finally broken from my mystery. But it will take time. Each lesson will be a key, and I will do as she recommends. This homework, I must confront my enemies in melee combat, face to face and watch how they move...



All her words, stuck in my mind.

[Falreign]

Third Passing of the Second Life

It has been months. My training must keep up, her movements are graceful and amazing at the same time. My homework has been successful and everyday I keep confronting my foes head on. Just as she does in the training. Her boldness is just a ploy, her movements are swift and agile.



Those movements will endure all manner of swings, huge or tiny. That block will always push them back, throw off their defenses for a quick moment! Yes! Then we strike! Haha!



Those simple techniques will build me up to great and amazing moves. Let us keep this persistent, for even she dictates a difficult learning curve.



Let the bottles collect dust! Why my blade gets sharper on the bones of my enemies! This invigoration! Let it last for more, more training, more time!

[Falreign]

Fourth Passing of the Second Life

An assault of words can be sharp enough to cut, acidic enough to burn. This assault of my blade will always be sharp enough to change the tides of a battle. This is the natural way, this is what my body was built to do!



With practice and fervor that grace of hers will become mine. Lending me those teachings is like lending me a gift from outside of the mind's eye. I'm driven outside of comfort and outside of reliance, no more of the dwarven juice, her speed is essential to her grace. Those movements will never leave my mind and pursuit.



Spinning so freely! Releasing all of her bodies force in a circle of death!



Fit to cut apart all of her enemies, down to shreds!



Even steel giants have trouble taking apart her graceful movements. Her secret is in the grace of battle, she and I both do not need massive strength. These memories are a token to my drive and training.