Act I, Part VI: The Ramimilk Deal

By Councilor Arobar, Father of Nilas and Gandosa

I have finally finished my arrangements with the cultists of Ramimilk and they will do as I have asked as they did once before. I find them to be a most peculiar sort of people. They serve the Third Corner and have given themselves wholly to the wickedness of the King of Rape, but they are not without reason, no, quite the opposite. Perhaps that is why I have turned a blind eye to their countless acts of sodomy and transgressions against all that is right in the world: They can be reasoned with. They know that I have not only the political power, but the physical prowess to kill them, and they respect that. They respect that I am greater than them and thus, they submit. It is something which, though I despise the lives they choose to lead, I do greatly admire. They recognize that everything, no matter how great or powerful, has something which it must submit to and they realize that I am one of the things they must submit to and that is why I choose to use them in capacities unfit for those who are Redoran. They are not bound by the codes of the Temple or of the House, but of their own warped worldviews, and they operate using reason and cunning as their way of navigating the world—something I wish Nilas and Gandosa had learned at some point, but they grew up in a manor with servants galore. I never forced them to live a real life, but rather, I allowed them to be sheltered and that is perhaps my greatest failing. I denied them both the opportunity to become something more than riders upon my coattails and parasites suckling from my hard-earned wealth and accolades. If only they were born earlier in my life like Nartise, but it doesn’t matter, she’s gone and all I have left are these leeches I call my children. Life is cruel.

The Cultists set on a trek for Marandus as soon as we finished our discussions and I have been riding back to Ald’ruhn to resolve the matter of Athyn’s disrespect. He forgets his place. He is their uncle, yes, but they are a reflection of me and for him to allow Nilas the opportunity to become Redoran when he hasn’t earned it—I can’t put into words my disgust. Does he not remember how hard I fought for the privilege of undergoing the Trials and he just goes ahead and sponsors my son who has done nothing to earn it? Does he not remember how I labored in his father’s muck fields for months amongst the Lessers to show how much I wanted it? Does he not remember how when his father still denied me sponsorship after having done every single one of his humiliating mockeries, I marched into the Council Chambers despite being a mere commoner, and demanded they sponsor me after having labored for months only to be denied it because “You are of common birth and not worthy of the Trials.” I was ready to challenge his father to a duel despite myself not being Redoran and thus having the right to do so, but I earned that right just like I earned everything else, and he gives it to my son, who has done nothing but bring shame upon my name after taking her from me. A part of me still wants to challenge him and to just deal with the consequences as they come, but I can’t forget the brother who stood alongside me at Tel Uvirith, at Shishi, and at countless battles. I miss those days. Everything was simpler back then when the three of us were out there leading campaigns in the name of the Tribunal and in the name of the House. Things weren’t so complicated. I didn’t have to worry about political alliances to secure ground for the House or choosing the right words at dinner parties with representatives from the other Houses, no, things were different. We were out there doing everything we imagined being Redoran was about and it was great, even if we did lose a lot of good people. I didn’t have to worry about anything really besides organizing the soldiers and getting them from Point A to Point B, but I’d go back to that in a heartbeat if it didn’t mean giving up everything I’ve worked so hard for. That’s what’s funny about life: You spend your whole life trying to make it to the top and when you finally make it to the top and when you finally get there, you wish you had never left the bottom.

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I just wish I could turn back time to those days. The three of us were young. We were proud. Yes, we were tired, worn down, burnt out, constantly hungry because there were enough rations, but I’d say we were happy. I’d say that back then is when Dralora and I really fell in love. Sure, I looked at her in the way any boy looks at a pretty girl when I was working those fields for her father, but I wasn’t really in love. I was a boy with a crush. It wasn’t until we had spilt blood and had our blood spilt together that I really saw into her heart and it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and I knew that I had to have her. I couldn’t imagine the thought of losing her, especially after Shishi when that old Telvanni n’wah nearly killed the three of us and she threw herself in front of me. She loved me enough to lay down her life for me and I did the same and that’s why I can’t forgive Nilas even after all these years. Had she just let the apothecary give her the elixir, she would’ve lived, even if he hadn’t, and that’s a sacrifice I was willing to make, but she wouldn’t. I begged her. I pleaded with her. I told her I’d never leave her side again if she’d take it, but she refused. She loved the little bastard so much that she was willing to die just so he could have the opportunity to piss on everything I’ve ever worked towards. I hate him. I hate him for being such a pathetic excuse for a son. I hate for being an embarrassment on my name. I hate him for so many things, but I know that soon, there will be justice. He took her from me. He took my queen, my muse, my reason for being from me, and soon, he will finally be faced with oblivion as he should’ve been so long ago and I will shed not a single tear for him, for he took the only woman I ever loved from me and knowing that the cultists will ensure I never see his face again, I can’t help but feel my heart lighten for the first time since I lost her. Though I’ll never hold her in my arms again, the wrong will finally be righted and perhaps then I’ll finally be able to forgive myself for letting her go.

Finally, I will be free.

­-Miner Arobar, Councilor of House Redoran