Welcome to Cove

A messenger finds Raiden in a moment of solitude, passing over a letter.

Dear Captain Raiden,

I have been considering your words the other evening. Though our display was rather public, civil on the surface yet heated underneath, I have refrained from mentioning anything about it to my superiors. You may not care one way or the other, but I hope you do and I shall tell you why.

When I was young my father told me a story: 'There once was a brave and beloved leader of a wolf pack who defended his own with great ferocity. Word spread of this, and after some time other wolves sought to join under his protection. Being a loving and kind leader, he took in both the downtrodden to the strong, as long as they were willing to pull their weight. Not all the pack approved of the new arrivals, especially those from known troublesome packs, but for a time, all was mostly well. Gradually, as this process went on, the competition for food, space and the infighting grew. The wolf leader tried to resolve these tribal conflicts as best he could, but resentment always necessarily grew. Though the new arrivals were not of ill intent, they were fundamentally different and eventually one of his original charges was killed in a scrap over food. He ordered that the offenders leave but they refused, and their group backed them. In order to avoid a full on fight, he was forced to capitulate, and the outsiders knew that they were weak. More killings began. The wolf leader even began to doubt himself - after all, the newcomers were now not so new, and did he not owe his loyalty to all his pack equally? He began to lose himself in confusion and dark thoughts.

One terrible night a rival pack attacked, organised and efficient - nonetheless once upon a time he would have easily seen off such a threat. However cohesion was lost, the pack that once fought as one fluid movement now a scattering of independent groups each looking out for their own interests. As the fighting raged, in this final hour he came to his senses and knew his duty was to his own; he sought them out on the battlefield and planned to flee, saving them at the last moment from his terrible error before it was too late. He would even bear the shame of retreat out of his love for them. As he bounded across the field, he found them, dead, being torn apart upon not by the rival pack.. but by those he had welcomed with open paws. His heartfelt houls of anguish cut through the night sky as he was beset by the attackers. His noble and natural sense of duty for his pack had been misunderstood, corrupted into an impossible duty to all... he had cared too much, and others who knew better how the world works saw only opportunity for their own.'

You are devoted to your men. You are a good man and show alignment with the principle of Courage, yet your manifestation of divine law is, in this instance, warped by a grave misunderstanding. I reach out in guidance, as those before me have reached out to me.

Signed
Initiate Danaeyl

-The messenger approaches Raiden as he returns from patrol. Dismissing the men, he takes the letter and makes his way inside the barracks. Slumping back in his chair, he breaks the seal and pores over the Churchman's correspondence. Sighing gravely, he reaches for a quill-

Dear Initiate.

My thanks for your letter.

An interesting tale to be sure and one that harkens me back to my childhood and another such fable. That of wolves in sheep's clothing. You see, Initiate, there's many a man that has used a uniform, whether it be military or otherwise, to clothe his own excesses and lust for cruelty. I was taught that these wolves too must be culled, much like the troublesome ones you mentioned in your note.

I do regret that our first meeting was under such circumstances. However a shepherd must tend to his flock. It would be remiss of me as their leader and someone they look to for 'guidance', should I not enquire after the fate of my guardsmen, when they have been treated in such a manner. I'm sure that you would be just as protective of your own flock, no?

There are rotten apples in every basket. I have been soldiering all my life, I am not so naive as to ignore that. Some can be saved, some not. I'm sure that's the case in any walk of life, Initiate.

*signed*

Raiden Morana,
Captain, Covian Army.

The letter arrives whilst Danaeyl undertakes his morning duties. He smiles and enters the Chapel, reading as he walks. His expression darkens. Pacing up the stairs, he quickly draws a quill and parchment from the desk.

Captain Raiden,

I tire of such regular and poorly concealed threats! If you fail to see what is at stake and your role in it then perhaps you...


Pondering the next words, his momentarily sharp features relax as he regains his composure. He sighs and thinks to himself 'Avatar's tests come in many forms.' Pushing his hair out his face, he crumples up the letter and draws a fresh sheet of parchment.

Dear Captain Raiden,

In time you will see the truth. When that time comes I simply ask that you recall this correspondence.

Signed
Danaeyl