Act I, Part IX: Reflections

By Miner Arobar, Father of Nilas and Gandosa

There are few things I admire about the godless Telvanni, but I can not deny that I do have utmost respect for the independence of each and every one of them. I have heard it said that no man is an island, but I dare say, whoever it is that coined that term never met one of the Telvanni. They are a confederacy of predators kept in a state of order only because they recognize that every action has consequences, both anticipated and otherwise. Though it is acceptable for them to simply kill their rivals, they recognize that their rivals have likely been smart enough to ingratiate themselves to more powerful members of the House through being good little lackeys and realize that even killing the most insignificant seeming little toady could result in angering one of the ancient wizard-lords that the Telvanni are so known for. But. That does not change that each and every Telvanni recognizes himself as the manufacturer of his own destiny and does not feel beholden to things such as morality or ethics and views those that are as limited. Perhaps that is another one of the few things I admire about them: They are an amoral people.

They are not immoral. Immorality is deliberately doing what one knows to be wrong. The Sodomites of Ramimilk—they are immoral. They are useful, yes, but they are disgusting both inside and out and should they ever lose that usefulness, I can’t say that I would spare them from the justice of Temple Code any longer and perhaps I personally would be the one to enact it. No, the Telvanni are different though. They are creatures who have divorced themselves from morality entirely and embraced a nihilism of sorts that only someone who has removed himself from any emotional attachments to anything could. It’s why they are so much freer than the rest of us. They have no masters except themselves. Certainly, they may indenture themselves unto others to gain favor or knowledge, but they know that in the end, their goals are the only goals that matter. Their ambition is the only master they serve. It’s why they are perhaps the only truly amoral beings I’ve ever met; their view of the world is one colored by an egoistic solipsism: “I am the only thing that matters. Everything else exists only as an obstacle or a tool to be overcome or used.”

They are soulless, godless monsters. Each and every one of them. But that does not change the fact that I wish I were too an island, just as each of them is an island. However, though I my nerves have deadened since I lost Dralora, I still have some emotional ties to the world and I am not sure as to how I feel about that, although at the moment, I feel annoyed by them. They’re a vulnerability and vulnerability is something I don’t need, especially now that I won’t be so distracted by Nilas’ constant need for attention and can finally focus on securing Suran for the House, but right now, I can’t even really think about Suran or Serjo Oran or any of it. Athyn barged into my office in quite a huff over my refusal to champion Gandosa’s request before the Council and he said things that, admittedly, shook me. He said things that I would’ve killed any other man for saying. He asked me how I could turn a blind eye to my own people and I don’t think I’ve ever been so offended in my life. How could I turn a blind eye to my people? I’ve devoted my entire goddamned life to my people, but because I’m not there with that embarrassment I call a daughter in some soup kitchen or embarrassing myself before the Council to try to get some tax break for the Egg Miners’ Union, I’m turning a blind eye? If any other man had said that to me, I’d have challenged him to a duel right then and there for insulting my honor, but Athyn knows that I could never lay a finger on him. Not after all we’ve been through, but it doesn’t change the fact that he disrespected me because he doesn’t understand what it is I’m doing for our people right now. He’s always been worried about the underdogs of the world and make no mistake, I am too, hell, I was one. I grew up on the streets and made something of myself though and that’s why I realize I have bigger problems to deal with than a few egg miners who are worried they’re going to get their hovels seized for failure to pay taxes, but he doesn’t get that. He’s worried about all the touchy-feely things that make him feel all warm and fuzzy inside, well, Athyn, there’s bigger things at stakes than a few people losing their houses—I’m looking at the big picture, Athyn, something you never could do. But it’s okay. I forgive you, Athyn. You were just doing what you always do and trying to look out for the little guy. I hope you never lose that, but don’t mistake that just because I’m not there in the streets doesn’t mean I have ‘turned a blind eye to my people’. While you and Gandosa are trying to treat the symptoms of the disease, I’m fighting to cure it and I hope you see the day I do, Athyn. I really do, because you deserve to be there the day I finally cut out the cancer the Hlaalu have invited into our homes and them with it. It truly will be a day for celebration.

Soon though. We will see that day soon enough and it all starts with Suran, but to take Suran takes money. It’s the only thing Hlaalu understand and if I talk the Archmaster into allowing me to withdraw the necessary funds to ‘persuade’ the Commissioner of the Suran Hospitality Association to accidentally disclose a list of wholesalers currently and potentially selling to Suran’s thriving hospitality industry, then I might be able to slowly start starving them out. Nobody wants to live somewhere with a food shortage, much less vacation somewhere they’re going to starve, and who goes to Suran except for people looking for a good time? I very much am looking forward to that meeting with the Archmaster to discuss my plans and even more to finally sitting down with the Commissioner who has already expressed that his lips do get a little loose when there’s money involved.

The day of reckoning is coming, Oran. I told you the day you backed out of our deal so long ago that it wouldn’t make a bit of difference in the long run for me, but that it was the worst mistake you could’ve possibly made. You laughed in my face when I said that, after all, I was just fresh-faced newcomer to the political arena and you told me I was all talk, just like all the other Redorans you knew. I suppose we’ll see if I’m all talk when I take your eggmine, when I take your city, and when I finally send the Morag Tong to do to you what I would if I didn’t know you’d go running like a scared child when I issued the challenge of a duel. We will see if you’re still laughing, Oran. We will see.

-Miner Arobar, Councilor of House Redoran