From a notebook, written in a code constructed of geometric shapes and sweeping lines.
PRECEPT 0
My dear brother.
You have found yourself, as I found myself, in the city of Sigil. I know nothing about you, I'm afraid. You may have lived here all your life - you may be a newcomer stepping into this plane for the first time. Either way, brother, Sigil is a dark place in which it is of the utmost importance to maintain one's beliefs, lest be swept away and lost. As such, my assembling of my personal philosophy - my way to enlightenment - is primarily an exercise in focussing, assuring and strengthening my own mind, with the possible side effect of usefulness to others.
As such, I urge you, brother, not - NOT - to treat this work as any kind of 'scripture'. My words are not to be followed as a creed by anyone but myself. To achieve true knowledge of oneself one must construct their own way; if by some insane stretch of the imagination my views inspired someone, inspiration is as far as it could go: one must meditate upon, criticise and internalise any guidance received, making it a part of one's own philosophy.
With all that said, dear brother, I, Wren Ortharas, Monk of the Yellow Rose and Servant of Ilmater and of Justice shall begin my ramblings.
PRECEPT 1 - 'Brotherhood'
Whenever I speak of brothers I will be referring also to sisters. I haven't the time to write both words every time, dear brother or sister.
I was cast away from my family and into the life of the monastery before I can remember. As such, the only family I have ever known is the Brotherhood of my fellow monks and the Fatherhood of Ilmater.
I was taught a system as I grew up - the world contains Friends, Enemies and Brothers, and since in general the only time I stepped outside the monastery was to protect my Friends from my Enemies alongside my Brothers I was never led to doubt.
Of course, among the first things I learnt on entering Sigil was that there are countless more varieties of people, perhaps one for every person one meets - however, the importance of Brotherhood remains a powerful force in my beliefs.
Brotherhood, to me, is the state of complete trust, respect and care for another person. My brothers are all who earn my Brotherhood, all who I trust to offer my Brotherhood to and all who are in need of my care or protection. To all these Brothers I would offer my unbending support, my unflinching loving care and my undying trust, and of them I would ask - though not demand - the same.
I am however prone to extend a... lesser brotherhood to those who are my brother by coincidence - a fellow monk, for instance, or one who holds views similar to mine. In this case, 'brother' is a title of respect - as it is, I am ashamed to admit, with you, dear reading-brother.
For me, the most jarring part of Sigil was a sudden removal from my Brothers. My entire life I had been but a small part of a whole, when suddenly I was thrust into lonely independence. I am therefore attempting to find... 'surrogate' Brothers to truly share myself with.
I recommend, brother, that you find Brotherhood of your own. Through this lies peace of mind and soul. A man with thousands of friends but no single brother is truly alone in the multiverse - a man with but one true Brother and no single friend is never abandoned.
Go in peace.
A Singular Way
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*PigeonStalker
- Posts: 27
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
Continuing in the code, a little shaky and rushed looking
PRECEPT 2 - 'Justice'
Brother, Justice is the key to all my actions and thoughts.
Where Justice is present, all other things come to be. To strive for Leadership, Order, Law or Peace in themselves is like striving to quench thirst without drinking.
Before true Justice all are equal. When pursuing justice, one may not show prejudice of any kind, treating a fiend as one would an archon, a murderer as one would a saint and - most importantly, perhaps - a Brother as one would a Friend, in both protection and punishment.
In serving justice, one must commit all of one's dedication. To jump to solve an injustice one day and the next remain idle is to betray the equality of justice.
Brother, fear not to stand for Justice against authority. Authority is not automatically aligned with Justice, no matter what those who represent it might say. Do not be cowed and do not cease to resist injustice because it has an official stamp.
Similarly, one cannot assume that Law and Justice are one and the same. Ideally, Law springs from Justice and remains subservient to it. Law without Justice is at best a hollow and arbitrary set of restrictions and codes - at worst it is a weapon used by the strong to oppress the weak. In any case, 'pure' Law should be attacked at every possible opportunity.
Order without Justice is a cruel and heartless concept by which the strong can control the actions of the weak. Unjust Order is the subjugation of diversity and independent thought - the imposition of an 'Official Way'. By crushing the independence of the mind and body, the soul is caged.
To me, the most terrifying concept is that of Peace without Justice. Peace not secured through just means is the Peace of the dead.
I am writing this from a cell, part of my own ongoing struggle for Justice over blind Law. My evening at the expense of our Harmonium friends was due to my 'interfering with the course of Justice'. I hope, brother, that you read this in a better situation than I write it.
Think well and go in peace.
PRECEPT 2 - 'Justice'
Brother, Justice is the key to all my actions and thoughts.
Where Justice is present, all other things come to be. To strive for Leadership, Order, Law or Peace in themselves is like striving to quench thirst without drinking.
Before true Justice all are equal. When pursuing justice, one may not show prejudice of any kind, treating a fiend as one would an archon, a murderer as one would a saint and - most importantly, perhaps - a Brother as one would a Friend, in both protection and punishment.
In serving justice, one must commit all of one's dedication. To jump to solve an injustice one day and the next remain idle is to betray the equality of justice.
Brother, fear not to stand for Justice against authority. Authority is not automatically aligned with Justice, no matter what those who represent it might say. Do not be cowed and do not cease to resist injustice because it has an official stamp.
Similarly, one cannot assume that Law and Justice are one and the same. Ideally, Law springs from Justice and remains subservient to it. Law without Justice is at best a hollow and arbitrary set of restrictions and codes - at worst it is a weapon used by the strong to oppress the weak. In any case, 'pure' Law should be attacked at every possible opportunity.
Order without Justice is a cruel and heartless concept by which the strong can control the actions of the weak. Unjust Order is the subjugation of diversity and independent thought - the imposition of an 'Official Way'. By crushing the independence of the mind and body, the soul is caged.
To me, the most terrifying concept is that of Peace without Justice. Peace not secured through just means is the Peace of the dead.
I am writing this from a cell, part of my own ongoing struggle for Justice over blind Law. My evening at the expense of our Harmonium friends was due to my 'interfering with the course of Justice'. I hope, brother, that you read this in a better situation than I write it.
Think well and go in peace.
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*PigeonStalker
- Posts: 27
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
In the consistent, flowing code of the rest of the book
PRECEPT 3 - 'Thought'
My dear brother, always, always think. Without constant reflection and thought, one can stray easily into the territory of the zealot - if not kept in the constant focus of Thought, one's ideals and beliefs can become warped without one even noticing.
I have seen such people here. Pity those whose path has twisted, whose crusade has become perverted - those who have forgotten to think on why they are doing what they are doing. Similarly, understand that there are those who do not think of how to serve their principles, wasting their potential and strength in idleness.
Primarily, though, brother, fear those who believe a principle without thought is worth a hundredth of one fully comprehended and considered. Those who serve Justice thoughtlessly are as healers administering poisoned medicines - violence or injustice is sure to ensue, made all the worse for its noble intentions.
The only places one should not think is in Love and Care - these should be unconditional and spontaneous. For example, the Love for a Brother can never be a calculated or self-serving thing. Care must always be selfless, and Love can be nothing else.
An example, brother. A brother of mine has the honourable ideal of not partaking in violence if at all possible. This has, however, come to become a kind of glee in his separation - a joy in the violence he perceives. An ideal is all well and good, but if not underpinned with consistent thought and meditation it can become a false guide for life.
Go well and think, brother.
PRECEPT 3 - 'Thought'
My dear brother, always, always think. Without constant reflection and thought, one can stray easily into the territory of the zealot - if not kept in the constant focus of Thought, one's ideals and beliefs can become warped without one even noticing.
I have seen such people here. Pity those whose path has twisted, whose crusade has become perverted - those who have forgotten to think on why they are doing what they are doing. Similarly, understand that there are those who do not think of how to serve their principles, wasting their potential and strength in idleness.
Primarily, though, brother, fear those who believe a principle without thought is worth a hundredth of one fully comprehended and considered. Those who serve Justice thoughtlessly are as healers administering poisoned medicines - violence or injustice is sure to ensue, made all the worse for its noble intentions.
The only places one should not think is in Love and Care - these should be unconditional and spontaneous. For example, the Love for a Brother can never be a calculated or self-serving thing. Care must always be selfless, and Love can be nothing else.
An example, brother. A brother of mine has the honourable ideal of not partaking in violence if at all possible. This has, however, come to become a kind of glee in his separation - a joy in the violence he perceives. An ideal is all well and good, but if not underpinned with consistent thought and meditation it can become a false guide for life.
Go well and think, brother.
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*PigeonStalker
- Posts: 27
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
A page torn from a smaller book and fixed in the main notebook, written in the form of an almost continuous thought in a less measured version of the code used throughout with a neat title and comment added later
Thought on the Nature of Wisdom
...to question what I believe; perhaps I have been wrong in assuming it is just philosophy, just personal beliefs that should be formed of the thoughts of others taken and shaped to give insight into modes of belief we may not be able to achieve alone, maybe by looking through the eyes thinking through the minds of other witnesses to life we can gain knowledge of what is TRUE, undeniable and absolute, metaphor; imagine a statue broken into a million pieces and a thousand men; each man given a few pieces, the other pieces hidden for the men to find - some start with more pieces and some are able to find more but all any can hope to achieve in a life of work and service to the statue is a few fingers or a lock of hair, consider however that if the thousand worked toward the statue together they could share the pieces they have to begin, coordinate the effort of finding the other pieces and become brothers in the process - making not only the entire statue but a close loving strong community of brotherhood which would allow the ideal place to gaze and learn of wisdom's beauty...
This... chaos is my central manner of reasoning, I'm afraid, brother. I felt it important to retain the original recording of my thoughts on this - it is weighing heavily on my mind.
Think always, dear brother.
Thought on the Nature of Wisdom
...to question what I believe; perhaps I have been wrong in assuming it is just philosophy, just personal beliefs that should be formed of the thoughts of others taken and shaped to give insight into modes of belief we may not be able to achieve alone, maybe by looking through the eyes thinking through the minds of other witnesses to life we can gain knowledge of what is TRUE, undeniable and absolute, metaphor; imagine a statue broken into a million pieces and a thousand men; each man given a few pieces, the other pieces hidden for the men to find - some start with more pieces and some are able to find more but all any can hope to achieve in a life of work and service to the statue is a few fingers or a lock of hair, consider however that if the thousand worked toward the statue together they could share the pieces they have to begin, coordinate the effort of finding the other pieces and become brothers in the process - making not only the entire statue but a close loving strong community of brotherhood which would allow the ideal place to gaze and learn of wisdom's beauty...
This... chaos is my central manner of reasoning, I'm afraid, brother. I felt it important to retain the original recording of my thoughts on this - it is weighing heavily on my mind.
Think always, dear brother.
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*PigeonStalker
- Posts: 27
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
A page presented in Common script, written in a sharp, controlled hand
Celibacy and the Monk
Imagine, if you would, a monastery. The father of the house is most strict - bodily purity must be maintained at all costs, with the father teaching such to all entrants to the order from their arrival to their death.
Imagine a monk. Our brother has spent his entire life in the monastery, a whole life of the Father's teachings. One day, needless to say, he is tempted beyond control. He sneaks out of the house one night, finds a tavern, gets roaring drunk and... gives himself entirely to a pretty barmaid.
He feels shame, of course, and a little remorse. He has broken the rule of his father, and of course his god, and deserves to be struck down by sacred vengeance. As such, he finds a comfortable corner, seats himself and reflects, awaiting his smiting until morning.
No divine fury is unleashed - instead, as the brother sits and thinks, an idea begins to grow in his head, the truth and simplicity of which makes him open his eyes wide, then smile, then laugh.
Our brother has realised that no rule is a rule, or no rule should be a rule, at the very least. He realises that the same man who tells him never to kill or harm another living being has taught him since a young age the most efficient ways to do so, suggesting that there are times when such is acceptable. He sees that rules exist to guide and serve a noble cause; it is a terrible thing to kill in most circumstances, indeed, and unnecessary relationships for a monk can only cause distraction from the path he walks.
A monk cannot shout his message as a priest. A monk 'preaches' through his actions - his life bears the message, and those who look upon him can learn from him. Our brother has been told that to do this, he must follow the code he is presented with; the code is right, and through it the monk will be a pure example to the world. Our brother reasons, however, that what matters is that what he does is is right, not that it is what the code dictates; if the right thing to do to further his own enlightenment and his message to the world is to kill, he must kill - if it is to break his celibacy, so be it. One who deserves to be seen as an exemplar has no right to lean on systems of commands and regulations - he must make his own decisions, which, should he prove worthy, are bound to be correct.
This decided, he returns to the monastery, finding his father waiting with open arms and a knowing smile on his lips and eyes, as if the brother has passed a secret test.
Let it also be said that if I remember correctly, our brother the monk repeats his experiment in the tavern a total of eleven times over the next season, with no one any the wiser aside from the grinning, forgiving, loving father, who likely came to the same realisations countless years before.
Think well always, dear brother or sister.
Celibacy and the Monk
Imagine, if you would, a monastery. The father of the house is most strict - bodily purity must be maintained at all costs, with the father teaching such to all entrants to the order from their arrival to their death.
Imagine a monk. Our brother has spent his entire life in the monastery, a whole life of the Father's teachings. One day, needless to say, he is tempted beyond control. He sneaks out of the house one night, finds a tavern, gets roaring drunk and... gives himself entirely to a pretty barmaid.
He feels shame, of course, and a little remorse. He has broken the rule of his father, and of course his god, and deserves to be struck down by sacred vengeance. As such, he finds a comfortable corner, seats himself and reflects, awaiting his smiting until morning.
No divine fury is unleashed - instead, as the brother sits and thinks, an idea begins to grow in his head, the truth and simplicity of which makes him open his eyes wide, then smile, then laugh.
Our brother has realised that no rule is a rule, or no rule should be a rule, at the very least. He realises that the same man who tells him never to kill or harm another living being has taught him since a young age the most efficient ways to do so, suggesting that there are times when such is acceptable. He sees that rules exist to guide and serve a noble cause; it is a terrible thing to kill in most circumstances, indeed, and unnecessary relationships for a monk can only cause distraction from the path he walks.
A monk cannot shout his message as a priest. A monk 'preaches' through his actions - his life bears the message, and those who look upon him can learn from him. Our brother has been told that to do this, he must follow the code he is presented with; the code is right, and through it the monk will be a pure example to the world. Our brother reasons, however, that what matters is that what he does is is right, not that it is what the code dictates; if the right thing to do to further his own enlightenment and his message to the world is to kill, he must kill - if it is to break his celibacy, so be it. One who deserves to be seen as an exemplar has no right to lean on systems of commands and regulations - he must make his own decisions, which, should he prove worthy, are bound to be correct.
This decided, he returns to the monastery, finding his father waiting with open arms and a knowing smile on his lips and eyes, as if the brother has passed a secret test.
Let it also be said that if I remember correctly, our brother the monk repeats his experiment in the tavern a total of eleven times over the next season, with no one any the wiser aside from the grinning, forgiving, loving father, who likely came to the same realisations countless years before.
Think well always, dear brother or sister.
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*PigeonStalker
- Posts: 27
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
An entry written in neat, tight code, followed on the next pages by a version in an angular, consistent Common hand
A new start is required, perhaps. I have wasted enough words on hypothetical brothers. I write for my love and my true brothers and sisters, present and future, that they may know me as I know myself, nothing more.
I look back at my earliest writings and... well. In some ways I laugh at my naive former self, a little, and fear the retribution he would bring on me for straying from his truth... You find me, at present, scheming and plotting against my foes behind closed doors, my mighty crusade revealed as a slow, painstaking affair. In public I am arrogant and defiant, with my brothers I am reassuring and supportive; in my head, however, I am uneasy, terrified of the future. Though I wrote powerful words about justice and its power, as the time comes to act... I am conflicted.
The Wren who wrote his few 'Precepts' was an empty man. He had been cast into a lonely, meaningless existence and to console himself clutched at a code he despised, attempting to rewrite it rather than cast it aside as it deserves. Since then I have found peace, brotherhood and love, and have seen the foolishness of my steadfastness, though not the cause I believed in. Here, therefore, is the primary and only new Precept I will present, one I have learned since I entered the city, one which overrides and replaces all that came before: care for everything.
Love everyone you meet. If you love every being to cross your path, justice will come as a matter of course. Love your enemies especially, that each blow you must deal causes anguish - to become accustomed to causing suffering to anyone is to begin to lose oneself to callousness.
Care for yourself. Don't allow yourself to lose your own wholeness in pursuit of your cause - let the cause be your brother, not your king and be bearer of your word, not its slave. Continue to reason and think through and argue everything you believe, cultivating ever growing and developing beliefs for yourself.
Know, though, that alone nobody has worth. Give your brotherhood freely, sharing your soul with all who could desire it - be a good brother to the multiverse because you care for its fate, and because the love and cause of a spirit closed to outsiders will go unfulfilled and worthless.
Act when you must. Love when you can. Care always.
Go well.
A new start is required, perhaps. I have wasted enough words on hypothetical brothers. I write for my love and my true brothers and sisters, present and future, that they may know me as I know myself, nothing more.
I look back at my earliest writings and... well. In some ways I laugh at my naive former self, a little, and fear the retribution he would bring on me for straying from his truth... You find me, at present, scheming and plotting against my foes behind closed doors, my mighty crusade revealed as a slow, painstaking affair. In public I am arrogant and defiant, with my brothers I am reassuring and supportive; in my head, however, I am uneasy, terrified of the future. Though I wrote powerful words about justice and its power, as the time comes to act... I am conflicted.
The Wren who wrote his few 'Precepts' was an empty man. He had been cast into a lonely, meaningless existence and to console himself clutched at a code he despised, attempting to rewrite it rather than cast it aside as it deserves. Since then I have found peace, brotherhood and love, and have seen the foolishness of my steadfastness, though not the cause I believed in. Here, therefore, is the primary and only new Precept I will present, one I have learned since I entered the city, one which overrides and replaces all that came before: care for everything.
Love everyone you meet. If you love every being to cross your path, justice will come as a matter of course. Love your enemies especially, that each blow you must deal causes anguish - to become accustomed to causing suffering to anyone is to begin to lose oneself to callousness.
Care for yourself. Don't allow yourself to lose your own wholeness in pursuit of your cause - let the cause be your brother, not your king and be bearer of your word, not its slave. Continue to reason and think through and argue everything you believe, cultivating ever growing and developing beliefs for yourself.
Know, though, that alone nobody has worth. Give your brotherhood freely, sharing your soul with all who could desire it - be a good brother to the multiverse because you care for its fate, and because the love and cause of a spirit closed to outsiders will go unfulfilled and worthless.
Act when you must. Love when you can. Care always.
Go well.
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*PigeonStalker
- Posts: 27
- Joined: Thu Jan 01, 1970 12:00 am
A neatly inscribed passage at the start of a new notebook, written in common interspersed with a few lines of symbols
The Life I Had - For Reasons of Giving an Accurate Impression of Myself
My dearest brothers, it is time I tell you a story. It is an important story, for without it you will not understand me, or understand me falsely, I think. It begins thirty-four years ago, with a baby left outside a monastery of Ilmater in the colds of Vaasa, an oasis of beauty and warmth in the centre of the village of Trill. The baby was taken in, in a joyous celebration - made all the more joyous by the child's timing, as the second in two months after an unusually long gap of seven years since the previous foundling. The Father of the house, the wise and esteemed Ortharas, held and loved the child as he had the many others in the two hundred and fifty years since he had built the house, and graced him with both his own name and, as all children found that decade, the name of a bird - Wren.
The children of that year, Wren and the sister who had preceded him, Swift, grew well. They were willing students and able learners, beginning the tutelage of their father aged five and quickly becoming physically and spiritually strong. Despite the love they felt for all their brothers and sisters, they felt specially close, linked by their near-identical temperaments and interests as well as - in a monastery receiving a new child every four to five years - their remarkably similar ages.
Though it was full of meaning, love and warmth, the life of the monastery was not an easy one. The hard work of the brothers meant all hands had to do their work -between lessons came chores around the house and garden, while the age of twelve brought active assistance in serving the poor and sick who came to the house's door. The spare time of the two children was passed either in play together or in writing messages in a code the sister devised - a code and tradition I keep alive to this day, I might add, dear brothers.
As they entered their late childhood and became truly awakened to philosophical and spiritual questions, the notes and messages passed became increasingly a medium of debate, as the sister grew into a view highly critical of many of the established rules and traditions she saw as foolish but the brother remained entirely loyal to the precepts of their house and their brotherhood. In this they were well served by a father who nurtured true individualism, encouraging us to find our own truth rather than forcing his own, incidentally rather traditionalistic, view of our way.
And... here I will leave the story for now, my brothers; it is here that things begin to truly happen, I think. To conclude this section, though, I will comment that this life was... perfect, in its way. My childhood was a time of joy, peace and love, a favour I owe most sincerely to my god, my father and my brothers. It is this joy I wish to give to the children here, in the form of my house. An arrogant blessing, but in all their names may I succeed.
Go in peace.
Wren, son of Ortharas.
The Life I Had - For Reasons of Giving an Accurate Impression of Myself
My dearest brothers, it is time I tell you a story. It is an important story, for without it you will not understand me, or understand me falsely, I think. It begins thirty-four years ago, with a baby left outside a monastery of Ilmater in the colds of Vaasa, an oasis of beauty and warmth in the centre of the village of Trill. The baby was taken in, in a joyous celebration - made all the more joyous by the child's timing, as the second in two months after an unusually long gap of seven years since the previous foundling. The Father of the house, the wise and esteemed Ortharas, held and loved the child as he had the many others in the two hundred and fifty years since he had built the house, and graced him with both his own name and, as all children found that decade, the name of a bird - Wren.
The children of that year, Wren and the sister who had preceded him, Swift, grew well. They were willing students and able learners, beginning the tutelage of their father aged five and quickly becoming physically and spiritually strong. Despite the love they felt for all their brothers and sisters, they felt specially close, linked by their near-identical temperaments and interests as well as - in a monastery receiving a new child every four to five years - their remarkably similar ages.
Though it was full of meaning, love and warmth, the life of the monastery was not an easy one. The hard work of the brothers meant all hands had to do their work -between lessons came chores around the house and garden, while the age of twelve brought active assistance in serving the poor and sick who came to the house's door. The spare time of the two children was passed either in play together or in writing messages in a code the sister devised - a code and tradition I keep alive to this day, I might add, dear brothers.
As they entered their late childhood and became truly awakened to philosophical and spiritual questions, the notes and messages passed became increasingly a medium of debate, as the sister grew into a view highly critical of many of the established rules and traditions she saw as foolish but the brother remained entirely loyal to the precepts of their house and their brotherhood. In this they were well served by a father who nurtured true individualism, encouraging us to find our own truth rather than forcing his own, incidentally rather traditionalistic, view of our way.
And... here I will leave the story for now, my brothers; it is here that things begin to truly happen, I think. To conclude this section, though, I will comment that this life was... perfect, in its way. My childhood was a time of joy, peace and love, a favour I owe most sincerely to my god, my father and my brothers. It is this joy I wish to give to the children here, in the form of my house. An arrogant blessing, but in all their names may I succeed.
Go in peace.
Wren, son of Ortharas.