The Truth

“Is war honorable?” the young soldier asked their Bahss as they moved up in a line across from the new elven arrivals, who had appeared in the Ember Sands a month prior. The great people known as the Matto had lived in the high desert for years. There were many tribes with different camps and the colorful people had a bleak outlook on life. The world was harsh, and the Matto held to the belief that in such a harsh place there was no need for their tribes to be unified. That compassion brought with it only the pain of loss, and so friendship and companionship must be chosen carefully, in order to bring about the least amount of pain. Loss was also wonderful, it freed the individual and took them to a place of peace and comfort. It was the closest they would get to death before their own time.

The Matto still held no love for one another when the Elves appeared. Some Bahss saw their arrival as fortunate, and asked for their assistance and support, willing to extend the hand of companionship to those rumored to be immortal. But it was soon revealed that the Elves had no respect for the desert or the laws of the Matto. They saw the people as a weak and quarrelsome bunch. Originally it was the Elves intent to teach and build up the Matto, but their arrogance turned into frustration when the desert people ignored their advice, wanting only to make the Elves live as the Matto did already.

Lands that had once belonged to the people of the desert was soon taken for cultivation by the Elves, and those that had once called these places home were denied their ancestral lands in the justification of prosperity. A once divided group soon became bound in a common resentment, common outrage, and common purpose. The War Elves know only violence, they do not mean to make us prosperous. If they intended such things, why bring weapons and armor instead of water and food?

“We are the Matto. We have conquered the desert. We hunt the Ironhide, we trap the mighty Oasis Monster and we do not fear the hiss of the Gorgon. We stood on these lands before the Elves, and we will not yield to them or change what we have known and learned from countless generations simply because the war-mongering Fay show us some iron!” the Mighty Bahss boomed, and cheers echoed along the line of warriors. Shields were lifted, behind each were three short spears for throwing, on our hips were our long kriss knives. We charged.

“Is war honorable?” The young War Elf asked his friend who stood on his left. They held long light-brown bows from the woods of their homeland. The arrow tips were half serrated, and half smoothed. The latter to find the gaps in the armor, the former to kill and maim.

Both the friend and the Bahss answered the question. “War is never honorable, but it is sometimes necessary.”