(27) - Meditations

Griffonclaw sat in the Cathedral catacombs, and meditated, as Niphesto, the priestess who had been put in charge of his penance had commanded. Although technically he was done with his penance when he had reached Uther's Tomb, he was unclear as to what pathway he would walk.

As it had frequently, he thought of the three weapons he had come to think of as symbolic in his choices - the glaive, the hellblade, and the hammer. Would he become a cold-hearted killing machine in the service of the Cathedral, or perhaps the Argent Dawn? Would he choose the hellblade, and continue the path of destruction and vengance? Would he choose the hammer, and stride the path of the Light once more?

He pondered.

The glaive he rejected out of hand; to become someone else's tool as a path was unthinkable. Griffonclaw had always been too questioning of authority - anyone's authority - to blindly obey. When he killed, he would kill for a reason, one he could accept.

The hellblade he would put aside; he had only kept it following the onstensible death of SaDiablo at Aislin's insistance that it would be needed again, and soon. His soul was weary of death, although his was a martial path; killing for his own vengance, his own passions, was not the path for him to follow.

That left the hammer.

Despite that he had been trained, and trained well, with the traditional weapon of the Paladins of the Silver Hand, he had always despised the hammer. To him, it represented what many felt was the hypocracy of his calling, to met out justice and protection, but with a weapon that would not overtly spill blood... that it crushed bone and muscle with a brutality the equal of any blade nothwithstanding. In many ways, a hammer or mace was deadlier than a blade; a blade cut cleanly.

Griffonclaw rejected all three as metaphors for the path he would walk in the future, although like any pragmatic fellow, he would use whichever tool was best suited for any given task. Glaive, hellblade, and hammer would all have advantages in some situations, and he would use them all appropriately.

But what did that leave?

Griffonclaw pondered some more.

He thought of Keruptis, and his vendetta against the Scions of Darkness following Catrionae's death. He felt shame at the way he had prosecuted his own agenda, but accepted it - so long as he learned from the mistake, and did not repeat it. He had sworn oaths thereafter to not initiate hostilities with any Scion, although he reserved the right to defend himself and others.

But the Scions of Darkness were not his enemies, any more than the Obsidian Order were his enemies. Individuals, yes... but he had lost track of the truth that the constituency of the organizations were complex people, and in the case of Scions, perhaps more conflicted and persecuted than most. Bishop Delavey had taught him early in his career that any given Warlock could be as virtuous as the holiest priest, just as Bishop Delavey was as black-hearted in his lack of compassion and machinations than the vilest of Scions.

Hate the sin, love the sinner? Not quite... but close. Let every person, regardless of what path they chose, prove themselves a villain in need of justice.

A defensive war, then... protect the victim, and punish the guilty. Protect someone like Catrionae from sacrifice. Protect someone like Ravenlore from persectution from those who profess the Light, like the bastards of the Scarlet Crusade.

Become a shield, not a weapon.

And when the victim was safe... pursue the aggressor, and prevent him from trying again. Let each person prove themselves what they are, and act accordingly.

((And Lo! Griffonclaw was re-specced to Protection, with the rest in Retribution!))