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The Legacy
As written by Drizzt Do’Urden, in the novels by R.A.Salvatore.
Legacy
What dangerous paths I have trod in my life; what crooked ways these feet have walked, in my homeland, in the tunnels of the Underdark, across the surface Northland, and even in the course of following my friends.
I shake my head in wonderment – is every corner of the wide world possessed of people so self-absorbed that they cannot let others cross the paths of their lives? People so filled with hatred that they must take up the chase and vindicate themselves against perceived wrongs, even if those wrongs were no more than an honest defence against their own encroaching evils?
I left Artemis Entreri in Calimport, left him there in body and with my taste for vengeance rightfully sated. Our paths had crossed and separated, to the betterment of us both. Entreri had no practical reason to pursue me, had nothing to gain in finding me but the possible redemption of his injured pride.
What a fool he is.
He has found perfection of the body, has honed his fighting skills as perfectly as any I have known. But his need to pursue reveals his weakness. As we uncover the mysteries of the body, so too must we unravel the harmonies of the soul. But Artemis Entreri, for all his physical prowess, will never know what songs his spirit might sing. Always he will listen jealousy for the harmonies of others, absorbed with bringing down anything that threatens his craven superiority.
So much like my people is he, and so much like so many others I have met, of varied races: barbarian warlords whose positions of power hinge on their ability to wage war on enemies who are not enemies; dwarf kings who hoard riches beyond imagination, while when sharing but a pittance of their treasures could better the lives of all those around them and in turn allow them to take down their ever-present military defences and throw away their consuming paranoia; haughty elves who avert their eyes to the sufferings of any who are not elven, feeling that the ‘lesser races’ somehow brought it unto themselves.
I have run from these people, passed these people by, and heard countless stories of them from travellers of every known land. And I know that I must battle them, not with blade or army, but by remaining true to what I know in my heart is the rightful course of harmony.
By the grace of the gods, I am not alone. Since Bruenor regained his throne, the neighbouring peoples take hope in his promises that the dwarven treasures of Mithril Hall will better all the region. Cattie-brie’s devotion to her principles is no less than my own, and Wulfgar has shown his warrior people the better way of friendship, the way of harmony.
They are my armour, my hope in what is to come for me and for all the world. And as the lost chasers such as Entreri inevitably find their paths linked once more with my own, I remember Zaknafein, kindred of blood and soul. I remember Montolio and take heart that there are others who know the truth, that if I am destroyed, my ideals will not die with me. Because of the friends I have known, the honourable people I have met, I know I am no solitary hero of unique causes. I know that when I die, that which is important will live on.
This is my legacy; by the grace of the gods, I am not alone.
