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Dark Jedi Knight Aghasett

Revenge: A Practical Guide

Emotions of dark will are complex, yet exhilarating, states of mind. One need only feel a passing resentment or envy towards another, to appreciate the many overlapping thoughts and images of destruction and conquest that seem to repeat and flourish in one’s mind, even long after the event that spawned them.

Take, for instance, a poorly regarded neighbour, who has one day seen it fit to increase his holdings of land, by the annexing of a weaker neighbour's acreage further down the road.

For you, this is of little consequence, for the land he has taken was not your own, and is at such a distance away, it would take a half day’s journey just to reach it. Therefore, it is out of site, and generally, out of mind.

But when the day arrives when you are required to fetch a roast, or gather a supply of timber, or any such thing that would inevitably lead you through your neighbour's recently expanded domain, you might be more inclined to ponder this land, to imagine its development as you would see fit, for the betterment of yourself, your family, and your power of influence.

This land, then, becomes an Object of Desire, but one possessed by another. Thus, it is he who benefits, while you languish in his shadow.

Had you taken the initiative and seized the land yourself, expanding your borders and doubling your crop output, the riches and reward you imagine he will receive would instead be handed to you. And considering your unshakable belief that he is far less equipped to handle the responsibility and vision required of such a large expanse, you wonder why Fortune has so blessed him with this stroke of inspiration, and not you.

Why didn’t you think to conquer the weakest of your neighbours, as he did, for surely you are more adept at managing the rewards of conquest? Could it be that, despite your talents and gifts, the generous touch of Fate has simply passed you by, and instead, decided to grant its’ favours upon an inferior?

Such machinations of the mind could be considered a state of regret, which has then folded into envy.

As you try to reconcile this irony and find no satisfying answer, the mind’s only outlet is to retreat down into the heart and stew, where events such as these have no reason or logic, but are simply experienced for the cosmic injustices they are.

*        *        *

As a new day dawns, and you are met in the town’s square by several of your fellow lords, the discussion quickly turns to your newly endowed neighbour, who has, in addition to receiving the lauds of praise and respect that come with ownership, just recently been spotted in the company of your wife and daughter, both separately and together.

And now your mind begins to reel, forced to negotiate the rapids of shock and confusion that have entwined your senses.

Could this be? Has the value gained by your tawdry and second-rate neighbour been enough to woo the attentions of those you hold dear?

Is your daughter—precious kin who’d proclaimed you the one and true love through her distance in eternity—suddenly found patronage in the favour of this wretched beast? And your wife, keeper of all that is sacred to you, furbisher of your life’s sustenance--both bread and carnal fruition—has she too been tempted into the giving of her fleshy delights, to this charlatan, this monster?

And the envy which had occupied you from the time you first met the day, now expands and contorts into something more vehement and sinister and grave. It is a feeling that tramples past the marker of vindictiveness, and approaches the ‘something’ that compels the scorned to act. 

*        *        *

So let us now reflect: you have experienced a sense of regret at the hands of misfortune, in having not first conceived the idea of material expansion. And as it was the neighbour of whom you consider your inferior, who has managed to sidestep this inequity by receiving the inspiration of Fates, and thus increasing his worldly share and influence, you then began to undergo feelings of envy and resentment.

But something else had then occurred, which enflamed these meagre passions into the fury of a firestorm.

He has seduced your wife to his chambers and violated her, while similarly robbing you of your most protected self--in the form of your treasured offspring--your adolescent daughter.

Oh, what agony you must face! What torment! The feelings of rage and frustration that now grip you are more than just that; they are instructions of some kind; commandments, sent from the shadowy God of Hate.

From within this hollowing pain, a sensation arises to protect you from further embarrassment and salvage the ruins of your esteem. Hate’s marching orders are emblazoned across your baneful mind, and now you know what you must do, as you burn in the passions of revenge.

*        *        * 

Possessed of a bitter desire to inflict injury for payment of the ones received, you plot your means of retribution.

How to enact a measure that would not only reclaim what you have lost, but then take still more, so that the deep and sticky wound of your neighbour's public slight will have been fully compensated for. It is not enough to “get even,” for, in addition to the shredding of your ego, the humiliation you have received tarnishes your public reputation; and this should be unacceptable to anyone of dignity and proper standing. So the question remains…what to do about it?

Using hatred as your guide, you must first ascertain the thing of most value to your despicable neighbor—who from this point on we shall refer to as “the wretch.”

And here it is important to note, that this “soft spot on the dragon’s belly,” where you look to make your strike, should be something the wretch feels emotionally connected to—this is key. Otherwise, the destroying of said thing, whether object or familiar, would not produce the lingering pain that revenge requires.

Why not just stab the wretch ten times in the belly, bleeding him out as he expires at your feet? Well, we’ll get to that, but first, it is of paramount importance that he suffer, and suffer deeply, both privately and publicly.

So back to the wretch himself.

After exhaustive and meticulous research (time and waiting are of little concern to the one bent on revenge), you have managed to secure certain documents pertaining to a child of feeble wit and physique, now cloistered with the priestesses of a distant abbey, who for many years has been retained by the holies as a menial servant.

This child, abandoned and forgotten long ago, is in fact the offspring of the wretch and his very own sister. And though history is replete with such children of ill conception, it is none the less regarded by society at large as a transgression of natural law to have fostered such blood, and public knowledge of the act would devastate the reputation of any offender.

So now, as the powers of revenge begin to emerge, your blood boils with wicked anticipation, for you know you have a tool to castrate the wretch in a way that will deprive him of his land, his life’s worth of fortune, and his ability to earn another.

But what of his carnal affronts? He may be financially destitute by the distributing of these suppressed documents, but the stench of his lust upon you own wife and daughter still lingers. So this is where revenge reverts from a plotting of the mind to a force of the heart—as it is necessary to become so; otherwise, the excising of your demons will be incomplete. 

A physical challenge is required, between yourself and the wretch, in as public a venue as legality would permit, so his final and ultimate humiliation will be complete.

Revenge has no rules, no code of conduct or civil constraints; so when a battle of fists is agreed upon by both the wretch and yourself, make sure to conceal a dagger, so that the sweetness of his demise will not only be assured, but the expression of surprise and anguish you will witness engulfing his countenance, as you lunge the blade through him, will fulfil revenge’s ultimate reward: inflicting humiliation.

As he then lays crumpled at your feet, with tears rolling down his cheeks and pleas of mercy uttering from his lips, make sure to lean close to him, and whisper a stinging epitaph, of whatever best suits the occasion. Then drive him through once more, and feel the ebbing away of his life.

You will then depart the scene, calmly and wilfully, as onlookers bow in deference, and the emotions you feel will be of unparalleled strength and fortitude, which can encompassed in one beautiful, well-conceived notion: Revenge. 

*        *        *

The moral of this story is that envy and resentment are in themselves not enough; only revenge can motivate one to conquer thoroughly, so that the threat of one’s neighbour is vanquished to the point of nonexistence, and one’s status of superiority is felt not only by the victor, but the entire community.