<Scrawled in black crayon across an long piece of parchment and affixed to the wall outside Market Square with a small nail. All which seem to contain a musing, or memoir of years past. All written in a juvenile, yet grammatically correct, stylised Drow language.>
I crossed paths with a Priest of Cylad about a decade or so ago. He was giving a lecture or something to three or four students arrayed before him, sitting down and listening to his words. I decided to join them as he spoke about theories of knowledge. As I sat there, in the cool bathing of a full moon that illuminated this makeshift amphitheatre, on the side of the road into Naerlan I began to slightly stir in my seat.
It was so boring!!
My feet were tired, my breath was laboured ... and the lecture he was giving was like a sweet lullaby ... a true cure for when one needs tranquilizers to slumber!
Nevertheless he said something interesting! ... finallllllyyyyyy~~~~ ... This priest of Cylad said "People are merely the apex of their achievements ... armed with limited knowledge of how things should be done, and as such, guarantee their station!" .... or something like that ... my Common Tharel tongue has never been good, but atleast it was functional enough to understand.
I shuffled about on my seat upon the ground before lifting my hand. He seemed to peer at me for awhile before acknowledging my interrogative. Eventually he made a gesture towards me, welcoming my peaked interest.
"Neeee~ ... ano ... isn't that a fallacy though?" I spoke up in formal Drow tongue ... he seemed to understand ... by the look on his face as he glared with incredulity.
"Fallacy!? Are you saying that experience is pointless!? Do not waste my time with your idiocy!?" He screamed with a *less* formal usage of Drow language.
As I shuffled away from his most horrid stare a great sense of rage washed me anew. I Stood my ground ... proverbially of course ... before retorting in a tone much louder than the question that preceded beforehand.
"But you're forgetting intuition! Booksmarts and wisdom only get you so far! Surely the wolf has neither knowledge of anatomy or information concerning the recesses of the mind .... but still knows how to strike a killing blow and the smell of fear! Indeed I posit that despite lacking both, it still knows how to hunt and when the quarry is struck still with fear!"
With my anger unchecked by my philosophical riposte that I took my leave, having found sufficient rest and motivation to leave and pursue other activities...
<As the series of Drow figures upon the note scrawls to a close. Instead of a signature, or personal mark, there is a blue scrawling of what looks to be a moon and a very rough drawing of a whole bunch of houses and roads with a tiny blue figure walking upon it>
