I am Sir Jeffrey Godspeed. I am a Phraint. I have never seen one, as they are rare indeed. My decidedly Halfling name comes from the race who raised me. I am neither Phraint nor Halfling, and yet, I am both. My nature is a Phraint, though through nurture, I am a Halfling, with the confluence of both making me neither. What place does such a unique creature have in the world?
Sly. I do not hate him. My Company assuredly does. They appear to have every justification for their hate. I just can’t… feel?… it.His evil controls him to such an extent that redemption is impossible. A demon must be destroyed.
Not long ago, I would try to redeem him. Save him. However, trying to change what will not leads only to evil growing in strength. With each act of mercy, evil seems to grow ever stronger. I wonder why mercy, a cornerstone of morality and goodness, only leads to evil gaining strength. Those to whom I have extended a hand in peace only live to come back stronger and more corrupt than when last we met. If goodness and law shall triumph, then why are the tools of such lofty concepts so ineffectual in swaying and eroding the support of evil? Is it true that goodness is only rewarded in the afterlife? This mortal life simply a test to gain entry to a paradise?
Perhaps my inability to truly embrace empathy poses the barrier. Since I cannot feel compassion and love and kindness and a myriad of other good emotions, perhaps I am flatly unable to be good. Perhaps I am doomed in this religious righteousness to never truly be a good soul deserving of goodness in this life. After all, when I say compassion and capricious, love and hate, or any other dichotomy of emotional adjectives, I never feel anything for the good nor the evil. Perhaps save one. Indifference. I am essentially an actor, playing a role ingrained in me by my Halfling self, constantly at odds with my Phraint self.
I suppose that this may be considered the closest I can come to a crisis of faith. What… concerns?… me is that I feel nothing more about it.
Regardless, the pixie must die. Justice is not emotion, but it is a motivation. So, how do we go down a well in the middle of an enormous, alien city to find an ever growing demonic threat who seeks to gain strength through consuming a demon?