The Lore of Battle Mage Durm of the Fey

When one thinks of battle-mages, one
recalls the firebombing of the town,
the sudden avalanche, eclipsing sun,
that small terrible moment when they drowned
the harbour village. But battle is art
of wit and wonder. I brew passion draft
and keep pike-men from breaking. Give them heart,
generals ask. So many times I’ve laughed
and warned them that one cannot gild a turd
to win a hopeless battle. Wretched wraiths
will open bastions, let loose every bird,
betray, to live. One cannot rest on faith
and promises and hope and chance to win.
You understand me? Well, then—let’s begin.

Entered by: 0x3e17…7e9e and preserved on chain (see transaction)