The First Recruit

--- Archmagus Herne of Alfheim, slightly tipsy, approaches the bar after evening supper at the Greater Alfheim Hunt Club. Wizard #3523 is sitting, smoking her usual pinch of grouse weed, and turns toward Herne as he approaches... ---

Herne:
I know that look. Is that really necessary right now?

Listen, I know. The club isn't your thing. It's no secret that you're disgusted by almost everyone here. And I get it. They mean well, but they're just... a little out of touch, you know?

It's the money... does strange things to people. And this is the result.

But you, you're looking at me like I'm one of them! I see it - I see it in your eyes RIGHT now.

It's not the first time, either. I see it every time - every time I come by in a new elven cloak or mention my purebred steed - anything, really. You and that look. But damn the cosmos if I'll apologize for my success. Because you know what? With me it's different. It really is. I'm not like them. You know that, right? You've known me since I was a fawn. And I mean honestly, what's changed?

Ok, don't answer that.

You know, it was never supposed to be this way. The business... it just... fell on my lap. I didn't know what else to do. It was such a small thing. I saw the opportunity and I went with it. How could I have possibly known it would get this far? How could anyone? Nobody could have seen this coming.

And if you think about it, what real harm was done? People wanted what I had to sell. I just supplied what was demanded. Everything was above board - totally legit. It was a wholesome operation top to bottom with great jobs for everyone. Plus, If I hadn't done it, someone else would have. So think about it, who better to look after it all than me? Me! C'mon... I brought progress - new tech, new magic... it's so much less destructive now than it's ever been! ~mumbles~ Besides, the forest will grow back. Always does.

But anyway, look, why I invited you here... I want you to know I'm leaving it all behind.

That's right. I've resigned my chair this week and handing operations over to Cromwell. Yeah, that Cromwell. He'll do fine.

But I'm walking away, full retirement. Complete separation from the whole ordeal. I mean, yeah, I'm still technically a shareholder entitled to profits (a stag's gotta eat), but I'm out of the day-to-day.

Alright! Alright, alright. I'd shut it down if I could. I would. I want to! I'm just one stag, and it's totally out of my control. And think of all the jobs that would be lost. Alfheim would be devastated! Families would be crushed! Children would go hungry!

Seriously, stop with the look. I'm trying! Honest, I am. I have a plan, alright? And I need you. I need you to be a part of it. I know it sounds crazy, but you and I can do a lot of good - right a lot of wrongs. Ok, they're all my wrongs, but still. This will be a good thing. A necessary thing. We can make huge difference and set things right, and I need your help.

sigh

Come on, the last caravan's leaving town soon. I'll walk you over and tell you all about how we're going to save the forest.

Entered by: 0xcfe7…675a and preserved on chain (see transaction)