The Book of Peace

By Saint Robin of the Church of Danethrae

The peoples of the world treat each other badly. Why are my fellow people filled with such bitter hatred? Why do people harm each other, why is handed-out pain used to control and manipulate the free? We suffer, we free people. We suffer at the hands of our enemies, we bring suffering to them as they do to us. We suffer at the hands of each other, many see take joy from handing out pain or suffering to their neighbours, why should this be?. Why must we do this. Do we always hate each other with such venom?

This hatred and desire to bring suffering to our foe and to our neighbour echoes throughout the history of our lands. These three nations, our diverse and wonderful people, all with their own contribution to the future of the lands, all bring suffering to each other. The history of the free kingdoms and of all the free peoples of the world are littered with tales of conquest, of glory and of victory. These tales are told by the warriors, those who call the peoples of these lands to fight, to defend what is ours and in deed of defending, or to attack what we covet or what we think is misused. The warriors of our land love the taste of blood, and they love to watch the death of their enemy.

Our nations are built on the deaths of those that came before us. The rulers at each stage took it upon themselves to bring war to those that lived nearby. They conquered for territorial gain, they conquered for the best land for food, they fought others where prejudice or hatred was levelled against them. All through our history there have been those who have used their military power to subjugate the lands and people living around them.

Why must we do this to one another. Our lives as mortals are short, and it is fragile indeed. We are all vulnerable to plagues and diseases, age also cuts into our bodies and shortens our years. Yet our political rulers take these fragile lives of our lives and spend them for their glory, not even in honour of the gods above, and may win for themselves a day of victory. Or maybe a year. But not a lifetime. And not a lifetime of one of their soldiers that died in the field. Our time on this world is only a small window in which we can experience the beauty of its creation. A few fleeting years. Unlike the elves, or people grow old and they die. We mortals depart the world, and too few of us see so little of it, yet the beauty of its creation, of the handiwork of our gods is on display. Our lands are there to be shared. To be treasured. To be experienced. To be enjoyed. Yet our rulers deny life to so many by throwing them needlessly into fights with other realms, fights to which there will never be a true winner.

A Kingdom built upon the blood of its people is a kingdom of failure. Surely it is the duty of a nations rulers to protect its people, to sheild them from death where they can, not to throw them into battle to see them killed before their time. The people are the most valuable element of any kingdom; they are the investors in the land, and they are the true gold, the true gemstones of any nation. Without the precious people, without this diverse spectrum of people that live in all our kingdoms, our kings and our emperors have nothing of value. Yet they spend these people to build a bigger better, bolder kingdom for themselves. They take what is most precious to them and send it to its end - to its death. They build mighty armies of the men of their realm and throw them at their neibours and at other nations. This is madness; we have no need for the fight, those who die benefit not at all from any greater land. Their part in it is cut short in the destruction caused by their rulers.

Why fight now for a goal that lasts just a few years. Who can remember the fights that ended the world? How long did the victory of the victors last? Have the losers recovered yet? How many suffered and died to make that defeat happen? For none were victors; nobody won that war. Everyone lost. Everyone was subjugated by the breaking of the world. People died; good people and bad, and all for nothing, for a worthless defeat by the hand of the strong against the world.

Every new beginning, every new kingdom and new empire that launches a new ruler, also comes with it the yoke of death. It carries the burden of a people who must be sent to fight for that nations glory when none is needed. Sent to fight for that nations territory, when it already has it. Sent to fight for gold or gems when the real gems are being sent out to die. Sent to protect that nations rulers whether they are worthy or not. And people die. Good people and bad, all for the defeat.

Uproot the people, give them spears and helmets. Send them out to kill each other. This is what our rulers do; they always do. The fight is important, they tell us. What we achieve through fighting we could never achieve through discussion. We could never achieve it by being generous with neighbours with what we have. Could we? Or have we never tried to do that? Have we never treated our neighbours with respect? Dealt with them as equals, as other people should be treated, as though they too are the real gold, the real gemstones. Because we've never done this we never do it. Our rulers are shallow, they take only what does their kingdoms good. Sometimes it does their people good, but not by choice, not by planning to be that way. Only by accident.

In the war for gold, how much gold was there? Enough to go around without the fighting? In the war over gems, how many gems did we win? And those that died fighting for these things, how much of the precious trappings that were saved did they get to keep?

The corruption power of tempts those least worthy of the positions of rule. In the highest echelons of a corrupt empire, the rulers squabble over money. Even the emperor can be killed and replaced by those who own the money. Yet this infighting leads only to more wars; the empire turns on its neighbours after it has killed its own. It seeks not to defend itself from fell beasts or invaders and war makers from other places, it seeks to defeat those around it - to take what others have and add it to its own, already huge pile of treasure. It seeks nothing more than to continue the war; to fight more, to kill more of its people.

Yet in the hearts of the people there is suffering. We are delicate creature; maybe we seem tough and thick skinned on the outside but each one of us can be brought to and early end through terrifying disease. Yet our rulers love to send us to fight; to help us to die young. It is not enough to give each one of us a chance to enjoy the beauty that this world, that these wonderful lands, give us. We have to fight and die in order to earn recognition, to elevate our status and earn the income that is needed for our family and our selves to eat good food each meal time.