The Silent Struggle

The next installment of Lirael Glimmereye's journal as he progresses as a Yuan-ti Cleric of the Twilight Domain/Rogue. He is part of a D&D 5e High Fantasy home brew adventure campaign. Today's installment is the first part of an out of session episode, where Lirael figures out that he no longer wishes to become an assassin. It's part of of playing a character that I enjoy, where I think about different advancement possibilities available to a character and then weave a story about how they come to that decision. I think it adds depth to the character I'm role playing and shows a bit more about how I think when it comes to playing a character.

Past Journal Entries

1. Lirael Glimmereye - Backstory
2. The Prophets of Minwa

The Silent Struggle

While in the carriage on the way from Minwa's temple to Inverness a revelation began to unfurl within me. Since my departure from Silvaa which had become liken to a distant memory, I had time to reassess my future. As we traveled toward Inverness, I came to the realization that becoming an assassin really was not truly the direction that my soul needed to go or wanted to take. 

Ever since embarking on this adventure, my mind has been a maelstrom of contemplation regarding my future. On it, I found a rare respite from the relentless demands of obedience and precision imposed by my Master. He, a stern mentor, acknowledged no room for error or frivolity in the serious art of assassination, where the slightest misstep condemned one to forfeit not only freedom but life itself. 

Ensnared in this rigorous cadence of training under my Master for the past few years, the relentless pursuit of perfection left me scant time to reflect upon the essence of my identity. Despite this, recently doubts had begun to surface about the authenticity of this path--purposely choosing a target, then dealing death for gold. No, I did not fit the mold of a cold, emotionless assassin that my Master sought to instill in me. A likeness of himself in the mirror of destiny.

As the sands of time sifted through this adventuring journey, the life ordained for me in the realm of the assassin's guild increasingly felt like ill-fitting armor. Admittedly, I am not the epitome of perfection that my master demands; my temperament resists the meticulous precision he seeks and the lonesomeness of life with others that is a necessary part and parcel of being one who kills for a living lacks appeal.

Becoming an inconspicuous wraith to both victim and potential witnesses, is an elusive mastery, and being a Yuan-ti despite our valiant efforts at disguise, it became obvious that I stood out in any crowd I was in. During training, the scenarios often faltered, my inability to quickly or easily blend in with those around me, all to often led to premature aborts when I was observed while observing the intended target. 

Yet, amidst these struggles, a silver lining emerged—I excelled in the dynamic aspects of the hunt, and I became quite adept at "acquiring" items from the quarry. My master preferred to "advise" our quarry that they were being chased - they made more mistakes, and he often used my burgeoning skills to clandestinely dispatch missives to the heart of their sanctums, leaving them oblivious to the origin of the messages or how it got there.

As the time of my inaugural guild contract to kill neared, a contract that would usher me into the clandestine folds of the Assassin's guild, I detected an increasing disquiet within my core. Despite my aptitude for the rogue's craft, it seemed that Sister Elara's voice echoed within my ears and my sojourn in the Feywild had sown seeds of contemplation deeper than I could fathom. Self-defense, the pursuit of relics, or even during the extraction of guarded treasures—these killings I could at least justify in my mind. But the cold transaction of life for gold, that weighed heavily upon me. The difference between being an adventurer and a contract killer to most might be small, yet to me is a profound one, and I now understand the stirrings within me.

And so, I grapple with a dilemma—a conflict between the trajectory my training has paved and the divine connection I have to Aine and Grianne. How do I reconcile my realization with my Master? How do I communicate that the path to the Assassin's guild is not the destiny I seek, without sealing my fate with a blade in the dark? The idea that he would need to tie up any loose ends, which he abhorred, if I chose not continue and refused the forthcoming guild contract.

At the same time I wonder at the timing of this adventure, whether my Master saw this internal struggle and deemed it necessary for me to unearth my true desires. A hopeful whisper suggests that this sojourn was orchestrated to unveil my divergence from the assassin's fate before my first contract is offered. Yet, a lingering dread warns me that my former mentor may pursue me, a relentless shadow in pursuit of a wayward pupil.

The crossroads beckon, and my future dangles precariously in the balance.

While a return to the twilight cloisters of a cleric seems to be a part of my destiny, at this moment it holds little allure. Totally embracing wizardry, despite its arcane possibilities, feels incompatible with the clandestine arts imparted by my Master. Perhaps, a fusion of my acquired skills, embroidered with a thread of magic, offers a more harmonious path. The prospect, where my roguish talents can intertwine with arcane arts, resonates as a beacon of potential.

With trepidation, I approach the moment of revelation, praying my Master comprehends the cadence of my heart and refrains from delivering the fatal blow. For in the folds of my destiny, the path of the assassin fades, and a new journey awaits, one where blades may be sheathed, but at the ready, and magic or divine inspiration may weave a different fate.

Whatever path the future may hold I now must contact my master through the means we devised before I left on this journey and discuss these thoughts with him. Though I dread the conversation that must take place, it is one that must be done and I have the feeling sooner rather than later. 

I will not run from him and make him search for me, I will face my fate tonight on the road to Inverness as we camp overnight. I know we all must die at some point, but in order to live the life I chose, I must face my Master with my head held high to seek release from being his apprentice, before going any further.